


Knights of St. Nicholas

by JoJo



Series: Fosterdaddy Josiah [4]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Gen, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 06:19:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2955398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoJo/pseuds/JoJo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the Denver town-house not everyone has been good, but the boys are hoping for so much more than gifts from Santa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Phone Call

**Author's Note:**

> written during NaNoWriMo 2014
> 
> with thanks to farad for the beta

There were a number of things Josiah had told himself he’d never do as a parent. Turning into his own father was the principal one, of course. But also high up on the list was his determination that, however tempted, he wouldn’t spy on his kids.

“Oh but surely there are times?” Nettie Wells might question, ever the traditionalist, but he’d always shake his head at her, implacable.

He didn’t follow the older ones’ social media accounts for a start. Their Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat and who knew what else shenanigans. Didn’t listen in to their phone conversations, either, or monitor every session they’d had on the computer, although he knew parents at school who did all those things and still never seemed content. He had never covertly watched or followed any of his boys, even when they were setting off on their first independent journeys or telling him they were going somewhere and he didn’t quite believe them. Mutual trust and respect was everything, especially with kids suspicious of authority. And they wouldn’t give it to him or each other, he reasoned, if he didn’t give it to them first.

But here now. 

Here he was standing behind the drapes late at night, watching Chris in secret. His eldest boy was down on the street below the townhouse with that Ella girl, and Josiah just couldn’t stop himself. Not that he could hear their conversation clearly, or knew what he’d do even if he could. They were pretty well visible, because they were standing under a street light, and he could tell a good deal from their body language, the rise and fall of their voices. Ella was all touching hands and tilted head, all teasing and goading, keeping Chris’s attention. Every so often her eyes flashed.

Dark, petite, vivacious, and supremely confident – she was what his own father would, without a moment’s pause for further thought, have called a “Jezebel”. 

And that did it. The arrival of his father into proceedings was enough to remind him what he was doing. “God’s sake, Josiah,” he said to himself crossly, and let the drape fall.

Miss Ella was going to have her way, whether he liked it or not. Chris would just have to chart his own way through it all, these choppy waters of love and jealousy and sex. And may the Lord help him.

Buck, of course, was on the case. Josiah hadn’t asked him to keep watch on his foster brother exactly, but it came natural to him, especially where Chris and J.D. were concerned. Although keeping much of the undoubted truth to himself in the interests of not being punched, Buck had intimated a little of what was going on. Chris was under Ella Gaines’ thumb, so he said. Miss Ella was tricky, would tie him up in knots, lead him astray. And Chris was enjoying the tricks, even though there was another feisty young woman called Sarah Connolly in the group who he liked pretty well, too.

“Why now?” Josiah always wanted to say to Chris, or whoever was currently keeping him awake at night. “Why worry me about this now when there’s so much else going on around here to worry about?” Of course, he never did say such things out loud. Being a martyr to his own problems was not his style at all. And he knew youngsters didn’t respond well to it either.

He glanced down at his watch, squinting to see the hands in the dim light.

Midnight.

All four of the younger ones were asleep – or at least he hoped they were. Buck, by the sound of it, was watching TV in the room he shared with Chris.

Josiah shook his head. It beggared belief, in some respects, that the two of them hadn’t moved out. Mature and self-sufficient in many ways, they certainly wouldn’t have a problem being out in the world. They probably would have gone, he guessed, were it not for financial reasons. They were both holding down jobs that didn’t pay too well and that they didn’t find very thrilling, just making enough to contribute to the weekly budget, and pay for the cars they drove and their social lives. Which in both cases meant beer, movies, clothes, parties, and fast food. The room they shared wasn’t huge, but they just about didn’t nearly kill each other most days. And some days they were close as real brothers.

Real brothers.

“Goddamn right we are.” However pissed he was at any or all of the others, it was usually Chris who’d claim that, for all six of them. And, if anyone dared suggest otherwise or start, foolishly, talking about blood as if that trumped all... Well, nobody did dare.

Josiah went along to the kitchen, ran himself a glass of water from the faucet and knocked it back. When he came out to do his final rounds, he could see the light on in Chris and Buck’s room. Tapping with his ear to the door, he pushed it open.

“Hey.”

“Crap movie,” Buck said sleepily from where he was stretched out on his bed, one arm behind his head.

Josiah cracked a smile. “I wake you?”

“Not really. Chris back yet?”

“Maybe,” Josiah said cagily. 

Buck peered at the TV, bleary. Then he pressed the remote and dropped it with a clatter over the side of the bed. “Gotta sleep.”

“Uh-huh.” Josiah backed out, padded down the corridor to the other two bedrooms. In his own, under the window, the soon to be six year-old J.D. slept flat on his back with his arms thrown wide. He was totally relaxed, and deeply asleep. J.D., Josiah reflected, could be a good example for them all at times. A little further on, all was also quiet in the bunk room. On the bottom bed Ezra was rolled against the wall, back facing the room, bedclothes nearly over his head. He’d twined the damned things right around himself again as if he were a mummy, which wouldn’t help prevent the bad dream flashbacks he’d been having about being... well, twined up as if he were a mummy. Josiah reached out a tentative hand, tried to loosen the quilt a little, encourage the boy out of his tangle. Ezra kicked a foot and muttered but didn’t wake up. Josiah hesitated and then backed off, didn’t want to trigger anything, or make the boy move his injured wrist and shoulder suddenly. Added to which, well Ezra was the one he didn’t know. They didn’t have long experience of one another and Josiah proceeded cautiously with this particular child.

Up top he was prepared for his heart to squeeze, and sure enough it did. Vin was asleep just fine, but as usual Josiah was struck anew by his fragility. Somehow he just didn’t seem to be picking up from his time in hospital, or at least, not as fast as Josiah would have liked. He looked too pale, too underweight. Josiah told himself that the light and his sleep state didn’t do Vin any favors – in daylight, while occupied with what amused him, or rambling around out of doors, the kid looked better than this. He did have a spark in his eye these days – even the doctor said so – and occasional roses in his cheek, or bursts of energy. But somehow, asleep, he looked like what he was – a feeble invalid.

And who could stand to look on a feeble invalid, especially when they weren’t quite ten years old?

Josiah did the opposite with Vin than he’d done with Ezra, which was typical of how things went with these two. He pulled the quilt up over the nearest shoulder, felt a tingle of relief when the boy burrowed into it, settled back into sleep almost at once, breathing even and regular.

In Josiah’s study, Nathan was asleep on the pull-out bed. And the room was looking less like his study and more like Nathan’s. There were school books and ring binders in neat piles all over the floor, wet towels, socks and cheap aftershave on various surfaces, and it had been some time since the desk had looked familiar. As usual Josiah felt a pang of guilt that he hadn’t worked out a dedicated space for Nathan, but then he decided not to be too hard on himself. While things were in such an unholy state of flux, it was a big ask to do work on the house. Mind, he also suspected that perhaps there couldn’t be a more apt time to do it. It would show them he was doing his darndest in all departments to work for permanence.

Head buzzing slightly from the glut of things on his mind, Josiah slipped out of the room and went back downstairs. He wasn’t due in class until ten tomorrow, but he was hoping for a breakfast meeting with Cristina Alvarez and some brief from Atlanta who was in town to discuss the case of child no. NM35529 – as Ezra was still known in certain quarters. At some point he really needed to begin shopping for Christmas, too. Even when there’d just been Buck and Chris, Hannah always started some time in early October, didn’t she? And here they were halfway through November already. Perhaps he should make lists. 

“Yeah, lists.” 

Josiah yawned until his eyes watered. Time to sleep. He’d hoped to have a word with Chris when he finally said his goodnights and came in from Ella Gaines. But there’d been no telltale banging of the front door. They were still out there. Canoodling.

A faint smile came to Josiah’s face when he caught himself thinking that word. He was turning into his father again, and even though that was a horrific thought, the irony of it amused him. He tiptoed into his bathroom, cleaned his teeth, stared morosely at the lines on his face, and then undressed in the dark before slipping into bed. Just as he’d gotten comfortable he heard the distinct click of the front door – being opened and closed as quietly as possible. Then the snap of the locks being slid.

Chris was in.

Josiah supposed that would have to do for a good night’s sleep.

*

The main telephone in the house rang at precisely six forty-five a.m. 

Josiah was trimming his beard at the time, but he knew the older boys were already up, banging about in the kitchen. J.D. was out of bed, too, and had trotted off to see if Vin and Ezra were awake, and, if so, whether they’d let him in their room. His morning dynamism didn’t suit Ezra at the best of times, and Vin’s habitual fatigue often gave him the grumps.

He heard his name yelled, wasn’t sure whose voice it was.

“Right there!” he called out, running the backs of his fingers under his chin to test how prickly it still felt. On the way to the kitchen he noticed J.D. standing half in and half out of the bunk room, swinging the door back and forth. Josiah could just imagine that Ezra was informing the little boy he wasn’t welcome, but J.D. was pushing his luck as usual

Buck, with a piece of toast in his mouth, shrugged as Josiah came in, handed him the phone.

“Hello?”

Josiah stood with his back to the counter top, watching Buck and Nathan ransacking the dishwasher for cereal bowls and mugs. Chris was slouched over the coffee machine, back to everyone, still wearing the t-shirt he’d slept in. Josiah was pretty sure, if he was to go close, he’d be able to smell smoke and booze.

_“Mr. Sanchez? Mr. Josiah Sanchez?”_

“That’s me. Who’s this?”

He was puzzled, defensive. It wasn’t Leila Beverley from Social Services on the line, any of the lawyers or Claudio the department secretary. Neither was it a recognizable voice from either of the boys’ schools.

_“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Sanchez. My name is Tyler Davison. I’m a doctor at MGH in Boston, part of the team treating Jane Louise Dunne?”_

Josiah felt a knot of muscle tighten in the back of his neck. “Yes,” he said, and something about the defeat in his voice made Buck look round and stare at him.

_“I understand that you are the current guardian of Mrs. Dunne’s young son?”_

Josiah knew this soft-soaping tone, the build up to the big reveal, and he wanted to cut to the chase. “No disrespect, doc, but I really think you should just go ahead and tell me what you’ve got to tell me.”

There was a small silence, possibly offended. _“Well in that case I’m very sorry to inform you that Mrs. Dunne passed away a few hours ago.”_

“Ah hell.”

Of course he’d guessed, but it still came like a body blow. A respectful pause from Boston followed, and then the doctor saying, _“She had been quite seriously ill for a long time. As I’m sure you know.”_

Yes indeed. Alcohol and unhappiness did terrible things to the body. Not to mention the ravages of cancer.

Josiah swallowed. He hadn’t known Jane Louise Dunne personally, had never met or even spoken to her. But she wasn’t the reason he felt a punch of grief. “And was the... did the family get there?”

Family, in her case, was not J.D.’s father, or any siblings to J.D., but perhaps an estranged sister. There were cousins, too, but none of them had shown any interest in Jane Dunne’s condition up to now except to say she’d had it coming.

_“Her brother-in-law has just arrived.”_

But he wasn’t there at the end, presumably, in those dreamlike early hours when death seemed to stalk. It was getting towards nine o’clock in Boston – just about a reasonable time to turn up to the hospital and sign things if you had to. 

Ay mi vida, these families!

“Well, I... thank you, Doctor Davison. I appreciate your call. Mrs. Dunne’s brother in law? You can tell him that we’ll obviously proceed carefully with J.D. That’s her little boy.”

_“Ah yes. Still very young, I believe?”_

“Six.”

An audible sigh. _“I’ll pass that on, Mr. Sanchez. Thank you. If you have any further questions, please don’t hesitate to get in touch. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from the family about funeral arrangements and so forth.”_

And so forth.

“Understood.” Josiah was already determining that J.D. wasn’t going to be dragged along to anything like that. Should the scattering of Dunne family members even think of it. “Oh, and doc?” he asked. “If it makes any difference to anything, could you extend my sympathies to Mrs. Dunne’s brother-in-law? I don’t know the guy, or any of the relatives, but... well I know J.D. and J.D.’s pretty special to me. They should know his family here are real sorry to hear what’s happened.”

_“Will do. And again, can I extend the trust’s condolences for the boy’s loss.”_

Extend them all you like, doc, Josiah thought as he put down the phone. Ain’t going to help him.

“Josiah?” Buck said when he stayed where he was staring at the kitchen floor.

“Yeah,” Josiah said, looking up. He realized all three of the boys were looking at him, Buck hands on hips, Nathan with a bowl in hand, eyes concerned, Chris pasty-faced and wary. “J.D.’s mom. Early this morning.” He looked at the packet of Cheerios on the table. “Shit.”

“Are you gonna-?” Nathan asked.

“I’ll handle it.”

“Now?”

“Give me a break - I’ll handle it.”

“He going to school?” Buck asked.

Slowly, Josiah spoke his thoughts out loud. “Don’t want him to get the news when he’s already tired. And he’s sharp enough to cotton to something being up.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up. “I’ll take today off.”

“You want me to?” Buck’s voice suggested he’d already decided anyhow.

“Heck, I don’t know. Kid hasn’t seen his mom for over a year.”

“Still his mom,” Buck said, a tad sharp.

Josiah felt the sting of reproof, and accepted it. Nevertheless he held his hands up to ward off the sudden burst of opinions. None of these three had mothers alive and Buck and Nathan both remembered their loss. He knew they could all help J.D. now, in their own ways, but he needed them to reflect some first, go in real easy.

“Now listen, I think I need you guys to do your normal thing. Everyone’s going to feel this, I get that. But for right now, have your breakfast, get to where you’ve got to be.”

A short pause while that was processed, and then Chris said, “Wasn’t Ezra supposed to be back in school today?”

“Well, they said today or tomorrow would be fine.” Josiah frowned, feeling another cloud hovering. Ezra’s wrist and shoulder wouldn’t be properly healed for a while, but home schooling with Nettie Wells hadn’t exactly been a resounding success. The principal of the school where he had a place had assured Josiah that Ezra would be welcomed back with open arms at any time – and looked after like a young rajah. “I was thinking tomorrow but maybe... maybe it’d work if he went back today? Could be a little rough around here. What?” He knew that combative look which had suddenly come over Chris.

“So when things get rough you kick him out?”

“That’s not what’s happening!” Josiah felt the stirrings of irritation. 

“Damn well looks like it to me. And you can bet that’s how Ezra will see it.”

“Hey!” Josiah struggled against the impulse to clench one fist by his side. “I may be tied up with J.D. if he takes this bad, and we can’t do much about Vin at the moment. He needs to stay here, do his lessons, take a rest. Ezra’s ready for school. You know that. Damn house is going to explode if he and Nettie Wells spend much more time together. And him back-chatting Nettie the whole time isn’t helping Vin.” He nailed Chris with one of his rare parental looks. “We’ve been through this.”

Buck sighed. “OK, let’s not us argue about it. I’ll go tell Ezra the news, get him and J.D. in to breakfast. Vin getting up for his today?”

“See how he seems,” Josiah said. “Need to get some sugar into the other two, then I’ll take it from there.”

“Coffee?” Chris said after a pause. He still looked combative, although Josiah knew the offer was his way of making peace.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Chris turned away again, and Nathan began to set more things on the table.  
Buck rambled off down the hall. After a while they could hear the hot water running in the main bathroom and when Buck rambled back in they guessed it was Ezra in the shower. After another ten minutes, the youngest three were all at the table, Vin in his pyjamas and a hooded sweat top, the other two ready – up to a point – for school.

It hurt like hell that J.D. was so cheerful, so oblivious, although it made it easier to bluff their way through the usual ramshackle meal. Nathan had decided he was in too much of a hurry to sit down, and Chris, after dumping a monster-sized bowl of Cheerios in front of Vin with a smirk, left to get ready for work. Buck, who often ate breakfast while wandering around the house in the morning, sat next to J.D. and stayed there. Vin, peaked but with a willing appetite, even if a small one, seemed pleased to be up. Sometimes he wasn’t, but today – at least at the moment – seemed to be one of his better starts. He grinned at Chris’s retreating back and laid into the top half of the mountain of Cheerios with a will.

“Ha ha,” he said through a mouthful to Ezra when he knew where his erstwhile fellow pupil was bound. He waved his sticky spoon, munched and swallowed. “You get Miss Garcia.”

“So what? You get Miss Nettie and she’ll make you read. And do fractions. That’s a real ha ha.”

“I don’t care, long as it ain’t Miss Garcia.”

“Bet you Miss Nettie’ll give out more homework than Miss Garcia.”

“Bet you she won’t.”

“Five dollars says she will,” and Ezra’s hand shot out, ready to seal the deal.

“Ezra,” Josiah interrupted, severe, knowing the boy was serious. “Not everything is about making money.”

Ezra gave him a look but withdrew his hand.

“What if Ezra can’t write neat?” J.D. demanded at that point. “What happens about his medicines? What about the brace?”

“School know all about it. Miss Garcia will understand that Ezra’s wrist is weak, and the school nurse knows he may need some time out, won’t be doing phys ed or running around at recess.”

“Yes but what if he can’t write neat?” J.D. pursued through his Cheerios.

“I can,” Ezra said, lofty as ever when his abilities were being questioned.

“You can’t,” Vin pitched in. “Not like when you were last at school.”

“I can write with both hands, I told you. I am ambidextrous.”

J.D. snorted with laughter, as if it was a made up word.

“It’ll all be fine, kiddo. You don’t need to worry,” Buck said to him. He sounded a little tense, although J.D. didn’t seem to notice. On the other hand, Josiah didn’t miss that Vin did a double-take, stopped chewing. “Just eat your cereal.”

When the cereal, fruit and chocolate milk were consumed Josiah looked up at the clock on the wall. It was 7.15, only half an hour since the call. “You up to getting to school early?” he said to Ezra. 

Ezra puffed his cheeks, blew out a noise of world-weariness at the question. He’d borne four days of Miss Nettie, then said repeatedly that he wanted to get back into school – even though he hadn’t had such a stellar time there last year when he was a new pupil in Vin’s class. There were many things about learning he liked, as well as having other kids around (to con, as Chris might say), but there were also many things about the school system and about individual personalities that were a struggle. Josiah suspected Ezra just wanted to get shot of Nettie Wells who found him a challenge. He also feared that Nettie was probably finding it near impossible to hide her clear preference for Vin, with whom she had an acknowledged affinity.

“Guess so,” Ezra responded finally. “Breakfast Club.” And he rolled his eyes with expressive scorn.

“I don’t like Breakfast Club,” J.D. chipped in “Why do we have to?”

Josiah didn’t answer him direct, just put a hand on his shoulder while saying to Ezra, “Can you be ready by 7.30? To go with Nathan and Chris? You just need to get dressed and brush your teeth, right? You don’t need to take a backpack – the teachers know you can’t carry one at the moment. Nathan will take your lunch.” 

And then he made what they all called ‘Josiah’s Damn It Face’. “Lunch!”

“I’ll do it,” Buck offered. “But,” and he made a mock-threatening gesture at J.D. and Ezra, “you’ll have what I give you.”

“God’s sake,” Ezra muttered, and got away with it because of the sudden air of distraction around the table. 

“Peanut butter bagel!” J.D. sang out but again didn’t seem to register that Buck had no direct response for him. Vin had shut right up and was looking at everyone, uncertain blue eyes just visible under his curtain of shaggy, unkempt hair.

“OK for you, Ezra?”

“Crunchy,” Ezra said on an indifferent shrug, sliding from his chair. Josiah noted that he was still a little uneven, seemed to want to keep his bad shoulder away from J.D., who was jiggling about in his chair as usual.

“Smooth!” J.D. yelled, excited by the idea of a shouting match, throwing his arms wide.

“Careful,” Buck admonished him, wincing slightly as Ezra tensed up, gave the youngest a wide berth as he left the kitchen. “You finish your cereal, shortstop. Want some more chocolate milk?”

J.D. did look puzzled then, not sure why he wasn’t being told to go hurry get dressed.

Josiah said an inward prayer. It would be a miracle if all this timing worked out. He knew the eldest boys were doing their best to assist him, but J.D. was soon going to realize something was afoot.

“Now then, young Mr. Dunne,” he said, casual as he could. “You finish off those Cheerios, and help Buck with the lunch. I’m going to go make a call and get dressed.”

In the bedroom he called Nettie Wells, told her the news.

“Oh, Heavens,” was her immediate response. “I’ll be right over. You want I bring Vin back to mine for the day?”

“Planning on playing it by ear. Just hoping we can get Ezra out the door before I have to break it to J.D. Not sure how the kid’ll react to tell you the truth. He may be fine – heck, he’s not even six yet. What’s real about losing an absent mom when you’re not even six?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Yes,” he said, “I usually am.”

By the time he’d dressed he heard Chris announcing, louder than normal, that he was ready to go. Shortly after he heard J.D. in the utility room fussing that he didn’t have socks.

“Ready, Ezra?” he asked, swinging by the bunks.

Ezra was smart in gray Gap chinos and a white denim shirt, his still-wet hair neatly combed. “Do I need to wear my brace?”

Oh heck, Josiah thought. This wasn’t right. Much as Ezra wanted to be out of Nettie Wells’ orbit right now, maybe he wasn’t ready. The wrist break ached badly on and off, the damaged shoulder joint was a worry, and the kid would become morose and uncooperative if his meds weren’t kept topped up. The school knew that, but in these matters Josiah had a bad habit of trusting nobody but himself. As usual, though, things were moving too fast.

“I should take it, son. Just in case. Now you know you don’t have to go back into school if you don’t want to, right?”

As he often did, Ezra looked at him as if he thought Josiah slightly touched. Not to mention immediately distrusting his motives. “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

Josiah took a breath. “Well OK,” he said. “But if your wrist or shoulder starts to hurt, you have to tell a teacher, is that clear? No sitting there in class feeling bad and not telling anyone. You go to the nurse at lunchtime anyhow to take your painkiller, whether you think you need it or not. If you have to come home early we can sort that out.”

Ezra’s limpid green eyes were full of all sorts of things – impatience, suspicion, even a strangely indulgent kind of humor. The boy was a case all right.

“Ready?” Chris demanded, putting his head round the door. He was rocking the bristly look, his manliness surprising Josiah anew.

“Why all the hurry?” Ezra groused at him, but he plucked the tan-colored wrist brace from next to the bottom bunk bed, and followed Chris out of the room. Nathan was waiting in the hall, too, school bag heavy with books, Ezra’s lunchbox under his arm.

“Let’s go,” he said. J.D. was still racketing about up the hall yelling about his laces and wait for me. Ezra’s brow furrowed. Josiah could tell he’d suddenly cottoned to the fact that he was being hurried out the door, and J.D. wasn’t. Nathan and Chris didn’t give him time to ask any questions, though. Chris got a hand to the back of his neck and steered him gently but firmly down towards the front door. Josiah sent his eyes heavenwards as it opened, the three of them passed through it, and then it closed with a quiet click.

Dear God, he felt like such a heel.

J.D. came racing out of the bedroom with his shoes in his hand. “They left!” he bawled, staring at the shut door in outrage. “They left without me! That ain’t fair!”

“J.D.,” Josiah said, catching at his arm. He knew he was going to have to go for it now, couldn’t afford to wait for Nettie to arrive and scoop up Vin. From what he could tell, Buck still had Vin in the kitchen, which would just have to work. “Can we go sit down for a moment?”

“School?” J.D. said on a confused half-question.

“Yeah, don’t worry about that just now. I need to talk to you.”

“Am I in trouble?”

Josiah felt his throat tighten. “No, son. Definitely not in trouble. I just need us to have a little talk, and I wanted the boys out so they don’t disturb us.”

“I am,” J.D. said, mournful, dropping the shoes. “I’m in trouble.”

Josiah slid an arm around him. “Absolutely not. C’mon, let’s go sit on the couch. There’s something I need to tell you.”

*

He prayed it wouldn’t be as bad as telling Buck had been – that awful day, some eight years ago, when they’d gotten word the boy’s mother had been found dead. It had possibly been one of the worst of Josiah’s entire career as a foster father. As if the fatal stabbing of a prostitute in a Phoenix brothel wasn’t bad enough in itself. The bereaved child, even with grim details withheld, had been instantly, heart-rendingly, crushed. Same age as Vin and Ezra were now, Buck had been catapulted into such a world of pain and loss that Josiah had wondered how they’d get him through it. 

Buck had seen his mom only a few days before it happened. They’d had plans, hopes for a better future, and all that had come tumbling down around him. J.D. hadn’t seen his mother since he was very tiny. He had letters, and photographs, but he hadn’t had a life with her that he could remember. Josiah hoped that would be enough to cushion some of the blow.

First off, when he’d explained it all, J.D. told Josiah was a big fat liar. Which seemed fair enough. Then he’d pushed his foster father away with all the strength an emotional six year-old could muster. And then he became defensive, reckoned he didn’t care anyway. There were no tears. Just a finely-directed, slow-burning anger that resulted in a wholesale rejection of Josiah, and a running retreat from the room. When Josiah followed cautiously to the bedroom, J.D. had heaved something not very heavy against the door.

“Go away!” he shouted when he knew Josiah was outside the room. “You suck and you’re mean! Go away!”

“J.D.,” Josiah tried, soft-spoken, hand flat against the panels. He could get in easily if he really wanted to, but he didn’t want to turn this into a fight.

“No, no, no! Don’t want you!”

Josiah stood back from the door and stared at it. Buck had come out of the kitchen and came up to his shoulder.

“Well that went well,” he said softly.

“Kind of a tough thing to take in.”

“You want me to try?”

Josiah did and didn’t. He felt it was a task that should define him – the father, the carer, the one responsible – and that if he couldn’t succeed in this then he was a failure. At the same time, he knew how these things worked, and that he wasn’t the only one who loved J.D. Buck was the kid’s particularly beloved big brother, nearer him in age than Josiah, and, crucially, knew what this was going to be like. He wouldn’t have any false sentimental notions either, would get that J.D. had stronger attachments to a handful of other adults than he had to Jane Louise Dunne. And he’d also get that it might not make an iota of difference to how it would hurt, not once the loss kicked in. And even if not now, then anytime later down the line.

“Sure,” Josiah said and made a gesture to show he was going to stage a tactical withdrawal.

Buck looked half apologetic to be taking over, and half itching to get through the door. “If he’ll talk to me, maybe we could go out or something? Go to... some place for waffles? Little Man, for ice-cream? Oh and just so you know, Vin’s starting to get anxious.”

That did it. Leaving J.D. to Buck for the moment, Josiah reversed down the hall back towards the kitchen. He was aware that he hadn’t called the university yet to tell them he might not make it in this morning, or all day. And the breakfast meeting with the lawyers... he really didn’t want to shelve that and relegate Ezra and his knotty situation to the bottom of the pile again. Especially when the boy had just been banished back to school.

Vin was rocking on his chair when Josiah came into the kitchen. He didn’t ask questions, just gave his foster father a watchful stare. One of his hands was gripping the edge of the table.

“Hey,” Josiah said, sliding into the seat opposite. 

“Hey.”

“Wondering what all the hooey’s about I guess?”

A shrug, then a slightly unwilling, “Guess.”

“Well it’s like this, son. I had a sad kind of a phone call earlier from the hospital where J.D.’s mom has been. You remember I mentioned about that?”

“She’s sick.”

Yeah, a sick mother was something Vin could relate to all right. 

“That’s it. Well the doctors have been looking after her real well, but she’d gotten very bad. And they did everything they could for a long time.”

“And she died,” Vin finished for him.

Josiah sighed. “Yes, son, I’m afraid she did. I just finished telling J.D. and he’s kinda upset.”

“Cryin’?”

“More sorta mad.”

Vin crashed his chair legs down on the floor, steadying himself with both hands. He stared at the table. “So he ain’t going to school?”

“I’m not sure.”

“But Ezra had to?”

“Ezra wanted to.”

Vin frowned at that. “You and Miss Nettie wanted him to. Else he’s sick of me.”

“No, no. Ezra just enjoys school more than you do, and gets along better with Miss Garcia than he does with Miss Nettie.”

Vin gave another speculative rock. Josiah thought about reminding him not to, but decided against it. He was glad, all things considered, that his parenting wasn’t under twenty-four hour surveillance. “Poor J.D.,” Vin said.

Josiah nodded, half distracted. While he was talking to Vin he was trying to listen out for signs of how things were going. Buck must be talking quietly, whether he’d gained entrance or not, because Josiah couldn’t hear him. And he couldn’t hear any more “go away”’s either. He turned his attention back to the child in front of him.

“I know what you’ll say when I ask this, Vin, but – this sad news, you want to talk about it?”

The talk-about-it question was something of a running gag – words the boys had all heard multiple times from well-meaning case workers. 

“Nah.” Vin was suspiciously adamant.

“Because I know you worry about your mom as well.”

There was good reason, too. Vin’s mother, his only surviving parent, shared some of the same problems as Jane Louise Dunne – poverty, chaos, addiction – although up to now at least she hadn’t been hospitalized. When Vin had been removed from his family set-up for his own safety, she’d left her current boyfriend rampaging around Colorado with his gang, gone back to her own, sick mother in Texas. And she’d tried for a couple of years to get clean so she could sort herself out, get her boy back. Despite how quickly Vin Tanner had wriggled into his heart the better part of Josiah had hoped she’d succeed. But Karen Tanner was too unstable now to turn her life around, become the loving mother she’d once been. Vin had been close to her, to his frail grandmother, too, but would never have thrived in the maelstrom of their lives. A positive decision on adoption would close down a return to them for good, and Josiah reminded himself daily of the harsh negatives in that.

Vin rocked harder when his mom was mentioned, but he continued to shake his head. “Don’t want to talk. Don’t s’pose J.D. wants to either.”

“Don’t suppose he does.”

Vin heaved his bony shoulders. “Do I hafta do schoolin’ today?”

“Miss Nettie’s on her way. Best go get ready for her.”

“Buck stayin’?”

Josiah scratched his bearded chin again. “We’ll see how things go. Now are you all done?”

“Guess.”

“Well I’m here, if you do want to talk. And Chris will be too, later. No getting in a twist and not telling us, all right?”

“All right.” Vin cracked a smile. The wonderful bounce-back of youth.

“So you scram and get ready for Miss Nettie, I need to make some calls.”

There was a clunk as Vin landed the chair once more. Josiah was both relieved and strengthened when the boy paused to give him one of his affectionate head butts before he skittered into a gallop out of the kitchen and back to the bunkroom. Taking the hands free phone with him Josiah went back up to the living room, aware that Buck was still in the bedroom, speaking in a low voice. Just as he’d gotten settled on the couch he heard a shifting sound, and then feet in the hallway.

“Takin’ J.D. out for some air!” Buck called out. He sounded serious and determined.

Josiah fought the impulse to rush out and scoop J.D. up in his arms, assert his role, convey his feelings. “See you soon!” he called back, calm. “Take it easy!”

“Will do.”

There was some more murmuring from Buck, which had to be something to do with shoes and coats, and then the front door closed again.


	2. The Court Has Ruled

It was a long day all right, although somehow not as difficult with J.D. as Josiah had feared. To begin with he was off the hook. Buck stayed out with the little boy for a couple of hours, managing to turn the morning from a disaster into a treat – for a while anyhow. Vin seemed sulky about having to do lessons, but Nettie decided they should do some outdoors science which met with his approval – or at least the ‘outdoors’ part did. Nettie told Josiah quietly she’d be sure to shoehorn in some math and reading at the same time and the two of them left the house with a few books and in good spirits.

Left temporarily alone and with unexpected time on his hands, Josiah got to work. He ended up having most of the missed meeting with the lawyers in a series of telephone conference calls, during the course of which he found out that a decision on Ezra’s short-term fate was due December 23rd. It would take immediate effect, whichever way the ruling went.

“I don’t believe these people!” he said in a secondary conversation with Cristina Alvarez. “Right before Christmas? What if it goes against? And we’re fifty-fifty on that, right? So we get all ready for the holiday, for giving Ezra some good family time, and they could decide to remove him the day before Christmas Eve anyhow? Jesus, I swear...”

So despite the sucker punch this morning’s call from Boston had been, in many ways the real difficulties came later, when things had sunk in and they were ankle deep in other complications.

J.D. didn’t go into school at all that day. Buck dropped him home in time for lunch, where he was joined by a bright-eyed, windswept Vin. After turkey wraps (it was just Ezra who’d had the peanut butter), both the boys fell asleep (although they told Josiah they definitely weren’t going to), not waking up until Nathan and Ezra came home. 

Ezra’s suspicions that something was up were raised almost as soon as he was through the door. Seemed he had a talent for smelling an atmosphere.

“Ain’t said nothin’,” Nathan told Josiah in a half whisper, dumping down Ezra’s bag with his own.

“Think he’s done OK?”

“He’s out on his feet.”

And Ezra did look weary. Josiah noticed the wrist brace was on and when he went forward to help take off his coat, Ezra didn’t resist him.

“What’s going on?” the boy asked, evidently more alert than he looked.

“What do you mean?”

A pitying look from young Mr. Standish. “J.D. wasn’t in school. He sick too?”

“No, not sick.”

“Well what then?”

“Hey,” Nathan intervened. “You want some juice and cookies?”

“Thank you.” Ezra was polite, but wouldn’t be side-tracked, kept his steady gaze on Josiah.

“Come in here and sit. Don’t go in the bunkroom – Vin’s taking a nap.”

Ezra looked rather pained to hear that, but followed Josiah into the living room and sat carefully in the swivel chair, ready to listen.

“J.D. has had some upsetting news, that’s why he wasn’t in school. I kept him home.”

“I knew it,” Ezra said darkly.

“What did you know?”

“That there was something. Is it the courts? Have they told him he can’t stay?”

Since Ezra liked to give the impression he didn’t care much what the ‘courts’ had to say about anything, whereas the others were always asking, this surprised Josiah.

“Not that, no. We heard from the hospital looking after his mom.”

Ezra’s eyes immediately showed he knew what was coming. He frowned slightly as if thinking about it and then said, “Perhaps it’s a good thing.”

Trying not to act as if the wind had just been taken out of his sails by what was either imitation or insight, Josiah made a considering face. “I suppose in some circumstances, some people might think so. Although in this circumstance, a little boy has lost his mom.”

Unfazed, Ezra began taking off his shoes. “Is J.D. very sad?”

“Well, I... well of course! He knew his mom was very ill, but it’s still a shock.”

“J.D. didn’t live with her, not since he was two. He said so, to me and Vin.”

“What does that have to do with it, Ezra?”

Ezra reacted to the slight sharpness in tone with a wary look up. “He didn’t know her except as a picture, that’s all. He never saw her sick, just heard about it.”

“I think I know what you’re trying to say, son, but my advice would be to not say it that way to J.D., all right? However he thought of her, whenever he last saw her or lived with her... she was still his mom, and now that’s it - he won’t see her again. Ever.”

Normally Josiah wouldn’t have dreamed of being so blunt, but Ezra had seemed too cool. In truth it had rather gotten under Josiah’s skin. Lord knows he understood that his boys could put up solid defenses, but there was something about the way Ezra did it he sometimes found hard to take. There was a little flicker of something at the words, but then it was gone.

“So should I say anything?” 

“I really wouldn’t, not unless J.D. does, or if it seems he wants to talk about it. And then if he does, you should let him know you’re sorry for his loss. Don’t need more than that. Just try and be normal.”

“Normal,” Ezra said. “I can do that.” He picked up his shoes, for Ezra was, if nothing else, a natural tidier, and got to his feet. “Can Vin and I talk about it?”

Surprised – again – Josiah gave a rather helpless shrug. “I guess so. But don’t let J.D. overhear you.”

“Well duh,” Ezra said, and that was something new. Josiah hadn’t ever heard him say that, although it had been a stock response from Vin for some time now. “Can I go get those cookies?”

“Just a second. One other thing.”

Ezra’s eyes were on him again in a flash. “This one’s the courts,” he said, and he suddenly didn’t sound quite so cool.

“Yeah, this one’s the courts.” In spite of his earlier irritation, Josiah felt a sudden wave of affection for the boy, for his quick mind and those wafer-thin defenses masquerading as brick walls. “So, I spoke with the Georgia people today. And they – along with Social Services here, and the people close to your mom – are working towards making a decision on what’s going to happen next by December 23rd. So in a couple more weeks than we thought at the beginning. Thought you should know.”

Ezra didn’t say anything at first. He just stood where he was on the carpet with his shoes dangling from one hand, staring at Josiah while he weighed up what he’d said. “How many weeks?”

Josiah did a rough calculation. The 23rd was a Tuesday and they were on a Thursday now. “Say... seven weeks, give or take. Yeah, seems like a long time to wait, right?”

“But not very long to be here.”

Josiah swallowed. Yeah, now he was getting the emotion. Ezra’s face was still mostly schooled, but a small waver had entered his voice. “That’s true enough. But they know you want to stay longer – maybe even for good. And they know that’s what we all want too.”

“Really?” Ezra said, and he wasn’t sarcastic for a change.

“How many times do we have to say it?”

“Well sometimes Vin and J.D. say the opposite.”

Josiah nodded. “I guess sometimes they do. And sometimes you say the opposite as well, am I right? But the thing is, we all know – really, all seven of us – how we’d like things to work out, don’t we?”

And after studying Josiah’s face for a second or two, as if he was trying to work out some kind of tell, Ezra gave one of his unexpected beams – the ones that came out of nowhere, almost as if, in spite of himself, he couldn’t quite help it. Often Josiah wasn’t sure he knew what had prompted them, or if he should approve Ezra’s reasons to be so cheerful all of a sudden. This time he was sure, however, and he approved.

Ezra, for all his suspicions, apparently liked the idea of “all seven of us.” Apparently he liked it one heck of a lot.

“Cookies,” Josiah prompted then, nearly beaming himself. “But don’t fill your face before dinner.”

Whether Ezra took any notice of the directive, the evening meal ended up a subdued affair. Josiah wouldn’t let anyone else prepare it since he reasoned he’d taken a day off work and therefore couldn’t claim he was too tired for a change. Of course he made J.D.’s favorite pot roast with bacon in, and both Vin and Ezra grumbled and picked at their plates. None of the youngest three ate much, mirroring one another and also Chris, who’d come to the table off the back of some kind of shouting match with whoever was on the other end of his cellphone. He sat with his chair half pushed back from the table, chasing his food slowly round the plate, his expression defying anyone to challenge him.

“Ella,” Buck mouthed to Josiah, glum.

Later, after a bath and storybook, J.D. marched along to the bunkroom. Following along behind Josiah heard him push open the door and announce, “My mommy is dead.”

There was a startled silence within and then Ezra drawled out, “Yes, we know,” as if J.D. had announced something exciting to a six year old but quite dull to them.

“We’re real sorry for it,” Vin added, as if reading from a crib sheet.

“For your loss,” corrected Ezra him in a low, sober tone, like a junior undertaker.

J.D. did his usual hanging on the door-handle trick. “Buck’s mommy is dead too,” he observed. “And Chris’s and ‘Siah’s and Nathan’s.”

Josiah came up and stood behind him in the doorway wondering how the conversation was going to go, deciding to let it take its course.

“You’re an orphan now,” Ezra said, not very helpfully. 

“Why?”

“Because both your parents are dead. That’s an orphan, like in the stories, only you have a foster father, so that’s better than in the stories.”

J.D. thought about that. “Vin’s mommy is sick too, that’s why he don’t see her. That’s why he lives here. She can’t take care of him, just like my mommy. But she’s not dead and Vin isn’t a norphan.” He swung some more. “You’re lucky. Your mommy isn’t sick and she isn’t dead.”

“No she’s not.”

“So if she’s not sick and she’s not dead why are you here?”

“J.D,” said Vin in a scolding voice. “That’s kinda rude.”

“I want Ezra to be here, it’s fun,” J.D. clarified, “but I don’t know why he is.” 

“No it’s all right.” Ezra had slipped into his superior voice. “It’s fine he doesn’t understand. I’m not able to live with my mother at the moment, because she’s... she’s gone away.”

“On vacation?”

“No, not on vacation.”

“Well where then? Why?”

“Hey now,” Josiah interrupted hastily, “I said you were just to say goodnight and then come hop into bed. You have school tomorrow remember. Your class are looking forward to seeing you.”

J.D. looked up at him, a little cross. “But why?” he said. “Why can’t I know where Ezra’s mommy is?”

“Because it’s none of your dang business!” Vin and Ezra chorused together and then subsided into the kind of shared, half-suppressed laughter that was always calculated to drive the youngest wild. J.D.’s face became a little pink.

“You’re mean!”

“Yes they are, but it’s time for bed,” Josiah said. “And you two guys only have another hour, all right? Ezra, you have homework?”

Ezra regained his composure. “Probably.”

“Well suppose you go do it?”

“Can’t I stay here and talk to Vin?”

“Vin, you in here, or watching TV?”

Vin lounged across his bed. “Here.”

Josiah, one hand on J.D.’s head, gave Ezra meaningful look. “You have twenty minutes, then you do your homework.”

“Can’t I do it in here?”

“I can help,” Vin said, and he and Ezra looked at one another and burst into snorts of laughter again. Evidently there was a ten year-olds’ hilarity bubble in the room right now. Maddening, impenetrable and endlessly self-perpetuating.

“’kay, out you come,” Josiah said firmly, steering the little boy right around in a circle, in a way that he actually knew would make him grin and then putting out his hand for J.D to latch on to. “You go say goodnight to the big boys.”

They ambled off down the corridor. “Can Buck come say goodnight to me?”

Josiah squeezed the small hand. “Sure he can.”

*

With the weight of the day’s upheaval, and the help of Buck telling more stories (his own confection about a rodent cowboy character who seemed to be called ‘Sheriff J.D. Mouse’), the child was asleep within a half an hour. Buck came to tell Josiah, flopping down on one of the couches in the living room, heaving his long, jeaned legs up on the arm so he was lying at full stretch.

“What’s going on?” he asked on a yawn.

“Nathan and Ezra doing schoolwork, Vin having screen-time.”

Chris, who’d taken another call on the front porch and was marginally more cheerful than he’d been at dinner, sat across the room and Josiah was in his usual place on the swivel chair with a bottle of beer at his side. The TV was on, but low – just moving pictures, like fish in an aquarium, a focal point lighting the room.

“Kid’s doing OK,” Buck said. “So far.”

Josiah took a swig of the beer, aware that Chris was watching it. “With any luck, a few days’ time he’ll have something to cheer him up.”

Buck turned his head to look at him. “The hearing?”

“Yep. Reconvened for Friday afternoon. Have to be an apocalypse to keep me from that one.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Chris said with a sudden smirk. “It could happen.”

Josiah grinned. “You boys in tonight?”

“I’m not getting up for anybody,” Buck stated. “Don’t care who it is.”

“Millie Hepplewaite.” There was the gleam of evil humor in Chris’s eye.

“Nope.”

“Katie Stokes?”

“Good call, but nope. Not tonight.”

Chris pretended to think hard and then he snapped his fingers. “Louisa Perkins!”

Buck groaned, slapped his hand over his eyes. “Now that’s just cruel. But in any case Louisa Perkins wouldn’t be out anywhere tonight. Too busy studying, or washing her hair.”

Josiah racked his brains. He wasn’t sure but he reckoned this young Perkins woman might actually be at the university, just beginning her politics degree, which would be a first for Buck. “What about you?” he said to Chris. “You getting up for anybody?”

“Nope.”

“Not even Ella Gaines?”

Something about Chris’s body language suggested he wasn’t going to rise to any bait about Ella tonight, whatever it was that had happened between them, and Josiah respected him for that. “Not even.”

Buck made a little whistling noise and a cushion hurled with some force across the room hit him smack in the face.

“Cool it,” Josiah immediately said, for these boys still had their moments when control went right out of the window, and he really liked the idea of a mellow few hours instead of broken glass and recriminations.

Buck of course had wound up for retaliation, but he really was tired and dropped the cushion on his chest instead of launching it, and several more, right back across the room. Heavy emotions would do that, of course, and Josiah knew it well.

“Had more news,” he said.

Chris crossed an ankle over one knee. “Good sort or bad sort?”

“Mixed.”

“We need a beer in order to hear this mixed news?” Buck was wheedling.

“No you don’t,” Josiah said. “I’m the adult around here and you do as I say and not as I do.”

They grinned at him and then Chris waved him ahead.

“Ezra?” he asked.

“Yeah, they’ve confirmed 23rd December as the decision date on his case.”

“Right before Christmas! What if...?” and Buck trailed off. “Well, fuck ‘em.”

“Indeed.” Josiah was dry. “We just have to hope for the best on that one. If it goes against feels like it’ll just get harder and harder.”

Chris sucked his teeth. “And the good part of this?”

“Well, I figure the time lapse means they haven’t already decided we’re just a rest stop. Figure it means they’re taking us seriously, might consider something more permanent. Although Ezra’s a long way from being up for adoption. He might never be, and in any case we shouldn’t stand in the way of things working out for him and his mother. And by the way, the Atlanta brief told me all about what led up to Ezra running, getting in trouble.” He figured since Buck and Chris had been instrumental in getting him back in one piece, the least he could do was treat them like they had a stake in it all.

“You gonna tell us?”

So impatient, the young guys! “Only if you keep it under your hat.”

Chris patted his head as if there was something there, then made a face of sarcastic surprise followed by his normal one. “Just fuckin’ tell us, Josiah.”

“OK. So after he left us, he was in a couple of families near the prison in St. Louis. Saw his mom regularly, especially with the first one. But then he kind of got into trouble at school...”

“For what?”

“Borrowing stuff, not giving it back. Winning things off other kids in crazy card games and dares... not giving it back.”

“Uh-huh.” Chris didn’t sound surprised. “Remember Mrs. Wells’ deck of cards? Reckon you’d find he has previous convictions.”

“Which is something we have to try and do something about, right? Well, and he got suspended from that school. They decided his mom was a bad influence on him or something like that, so he got moved to another family much further away from her, poor kid, back down south. And that went even worse. Very experienced foster carers, and Social Services there – who’re supposed to know Ezra really well – say it seemed like a good fit and they don’t know why it didn’t work out. Whatever it was, Ezra ran away from this family a couple of times, didn’t go far, brought back by the cops, and then the last time I think he was maybe headed here.”

“Before he got himself into trouble with those fuckin’ punks in Texas,” Chris growled.

Josiah shuddered, passing over the language yet again. “Yeah, and I thank the Lord we found him when we did. ‘course, Ezra’s side of that story is that he won the watch and the money off them fair and square and since they put it on the table it was fair game. But however it was, they were damned lucky not to get arrested for kidnap and intent to harm.”

“He told you about this family? The one he ran from?”

“Just that they were strict.”

“Strict? What does strict mean?” Chris had sat up straight, a dangerous look about him.

“He told Social Services they didn’t hurt him, if that’s what you’re getting all riled about. I don’t know, maybe just... lots of rules, that kind of thing? You’d think that might suit a kid like Ezra – but seems not. He’s kind of cagey about it.”

“Well just because he told Social Services they didn’t hurt him...” Chris muttered.

“I know, I know. Hell, of course you guys know better than me. But there’s no evidence.”

“Or else it just hasn’t been followed up.”

Josiah got the sensation that he was beginning to sink under the weight of water. Mostly he kept afloat on a mixture of optimism and being insanely busy. “In any case, he wouldn’t go back there even if they rule against him staying here.”

Buck made a rude noise. “God’s sake,” he said, “can’t they dang well see this is the perfect place, if there’s ever a perfect place? I mean, I know the kid could drive us grown-ups to drink, but somehow he fits. I don’t even understand why, but he does.”

“Us grown-ups?” Chris mimicked.

“Yes,” said Buck, “Us fuckin’ grown-ups.”

“Guys. Language kinda going down the toilet.”

“Sorry,” Buck said, although he probably wasn’t.

“OK. And one last thing before we try and find a movie or something... keep your eye on Vin for me, would you?”

“He not well?” Chris demanded.

“It’s not that exactly. I mean, he struggles at times, but nothing’s changed on that front for a while. No, it’s this news from Boston. Been thinking how it might get to him, too.” Josiah lowered his voice, glanced to the door, a signal that he was about to say something that definitely – very definitely – shouldn’t go further than these four walls. “Poor kid doesn’t know about his mom’s overdoses, but he does understand she’s not doing too good in general. Figure hearing about J.D.’s mom may start him fretting about it all, and when he’s not strong anyway...”

“Heck, Josiah.” Chris sounded a little depressed. His own mother, an academic from West Virginia with poor taste in husbands, had died of natural causes when he was baby, leaving him in the care of a disinterested father. Even with no direct memories, Chris had a fiercely positive impression of her, plus a box full of photographs and belongings that Josiah knew were indelibly precious to him. Yeah, there wasn’t one of his boys to whom the word ‘mother’ wasn’t a painfully tender spot one way or another.

“Ugh.” Josiah chugged hard from his bottle, drained it and set it down. “I know.” He felt a wave of guilt about loading such things on to the shoulders of these two young men. They shouldn’t be expected to take on these kinds of parental cares, not with the baggage they already carried. But of course it was that very baggage that allowed them – sometimes – to help more effectively than he could on his own.

“Hey,” Buck said, charmingly matter-of-fact. “I’ve got J.D.’s back, Nathan’s got yours, and Chris will have Vin’s. Same as it ever was.”

“Neat.” Josiah was admiring. “And Ezra?”

Chris folded his arms, spoke in a tone that was half threat, half promise. “Oh I’m not letting Ezra slip through the net, Josiah, don’t worry.”

“Worry?” Josiah reached for his bottle. When he remembered it was empty, he slumped back in the swivel chair with a sigh. “What makes you think I would worry?”

*

J.D. slept the night. He woke in the morning his usual bright-eyed, cheerful self, and then became increasingly morose at the idea of going to school. Another day spent with Buck seemed far preferable, but Buck said he had to get to work else he’d be kicked out of the garage and wouldn’t be able to buy him ginger gelato from Little Man’s Ice Cream Parlor ever again.

“And that would suck, little bro. So. No more slacking.” He was joking but made a serious face.

“’cept for Vin.” There was a hint of sulk in J.D.’s tone, but Josiah wasn’t surprised.

Buck tutted. “Now you’re only saying that because he ain’t here to whup you upside the head. Vin’s no slacker.”

“He ever goin’ back to school?”

“Of course. But not yet. And now hurry up. Ezra, would you stop starin’ at those Fruit Loops and get ‘em inside you? Last one ready to leave’s a loser.” And Buck bounced from the kitchen, half a bagel in hand, leaving J.D. and Ezra to fight each other for the remains of the chocolate milk.

Over dinner that night Josiah told them all what was upcoming – the re-convened hearing on adoption, now only a week away, and then the big date of Social Services’ decision on Ezra.

“So, we all have to stay nice and calm, right?”

He had the table’s rapt attention. Which made a change.

“None of it’s in our hands anymore, but I’m real certain there won’t be problems – not with Friday. We’ve done the hard work, Cristina’s real confident about the adoption, and she knows what she’s talking about. No counting chickens, but by the weekend we could be celebrating.” A mad humor struck him. “Yep, just think, no more cash from the fostering fund and I could be saddled with three more dependents!” 

The older boys grinned at that, although the younger three didn’t, so Josiah sobered himself up. 

“But even if we fail on this, guys, you know it doesn’t mean you’ll be taken away, right?” 

That was always the important point to emphasize. A wheedling voice in the back of Josiah’s mind told him that it might not strictly be true, but no point leaving them worried about it. 

There was some nodding and nudging between Vin and J.D.

“We’re good,” Nathan said and Buck did a goofy double thumbs up. 

Ezra said nothing for a while. He didn’t want any cherry pie when it appeared out of the oven, which was a first. And a minute later he asked if he could leave the table.

“To do what?”

“Play cards.”

Such play was therapy to Ezra – psychological as well as physical. The kid had been frantic after Texas in case the crocked shoulder and wrist curtailed his eye-popping ability to manipulate cards. Even though Josiah wasn’t entirely happy about this facility, he knew skill mattered to the boy, was inevitably bound up with Maude Standish, the past, and his deceptively rocky self-esteem. Not something to be prohibited lightly. There was the whole issue of respect for the family at meal-times, however. Which happened to be one of Josiah’s favorite hobby-horses.

“Can’t you just wait for us to finish up? And then stand by to help out with dishes?”

Ezra’s nostrils flared and his mouth bunched. “I need to.” 

Still deep in cherry pie, J.D. and Vin watched on with big eyes.

“Take it easy, Ezra,” Chris said quietly from his end of the table. “It’ll come right for you, too.”

A little muscle jumped in Ezra’s jaw. “Can I just... please?” He was desperate, and Josiah wasn’t going to talk manners when one of his kids was this stressed. 

Exchanging a look with Chris, Josiah sighed and let Ezra go with a small nod. 

One brick at a time, he told himself, one brick at a time.

*

Josiah got up the Friday morning of the hearing, showered, and dressed in a suit and tie. His daily work gear was a collared shirt and decent pants, full suit-wearing being for special occasions only – weddings, funerals, and court appearances. He was due at the Denver County Children’s Court at 11.15, and would probably know by midday if Vin Tanner, J.D. Dunne, and Nathan Jackson were going to become his officially adopted sons.

He’d expected tension, but not total meltdown.

“You going to call and tell us?” J.D. demanded. He had come to breakfast as chatty as usual, if a little combative, although Vin was quiet as a mouse and didn’t look as if he’d slept too well.

“No, you’re going to have to wait until you get home from school, I’m sorry. It’s not fair to disrupt everyone in your class. I know it’s important to us, but everyone else just wants to get on with their day.”

“I feel sick,” Vin said.

Josiah looked him over. “I’ll bet.”

“Reckon you just think you do,” Chris said, nudging him. “Just because you’re nervous. You’re not really going to hurl.”

“You’d better not,” Ezra said, not very pleasantly.

“Shut up,” Vin responded, quiet no more. “You just shut up. It’ll be your fault if they say no anyhow.”

Ezra rolled his eyes at that. “For pity’s sake, don’t be so dramatic,” he said, languid, although Josiah could see Vin had hit the mark.

“Now hold on a moment,” Buck said, soothing. “How’d you work that one out, Vin? I thought last night you were yappin’ on about how it was nothing to do with him?”

“Well yes, see, ‘Siah had to miss the hearing cuz of Ezra,” J.D. put in, suddenly self-righteous. 

“But now we have another hearing.” Josiah was firm. “It’s later than we wanted, but it will make no difference.” Of course, he wasn’t sure about that – knew the details of the postponement had been fiercely contested and looked into.

“They’re gonna think you ain’t ‘liable, Josiah. That’s just the kinda thing that’d make ‘em say no and they wouldn’t think that if Ezra hadn’t called up that time and made you miss it.” Vin was forthright.

“I didn’t know,” Ezra said in his defense, now sounding rattled. “I didn’t know that was happening.” And then he spoiled it by adding, “You’re stupid if you think so.”

“An’ you can just shut up because you mighta ruined it all.”

“You can both shut up,” Nathan snarled at them. “Don’t do any good to argue about it here. Decision’s made.”

“My mommy.” J.D.’s voice was a quaver. “My mommy,” he said again and burst into tears.

“Heaven’s sake,” Ezra muttered in disdain, although he swallowed, nervous, as if his tone bore no resemblance to his state of mind.

“Aw, c’mon now, little’un.” Buck scraped his chair sideways, put his arm right around J.D.’s shaking shoulders. “No need for that.”

“What you being so mean fer?” Vin demanded of Ezra. He really had the bit between the teeth that morning. The cereal was forgotten, the juice untouched, and the atmosphere, particularly among the young ones was thick with emotion. They’d been so stoic up to now. Taking each day as it came. Waiting with patience and optimism, just like Josiah had tried to. 

Ezra just folded his arms across his chest as if he wasn’t interested any more and Buck took the cue. He stood up from his chair, taking the sniveling J.D. up with him. “Let’s go get ready for school, let Josiah get to court. Vin, you coming?” The last was command more than question.

With a last malevolent glare at Ezra, Vin slithered from his chair and followed them out. To Josiah it felt like unfinished business.

“Finish your breakfast,” Chris said to Ezra meaningfully, and Ezra picked up his spoon again, nibbled a few Fruit Loops in prim silence. Chris moved a hand across the table to tap Nathan none too gently on the side of the arm. “Nate, you go get ready too.”

Nathan gave Ezra a disgruntled look as he got up. “You’re not helping, and nor’s Vin. Why don’t you think about Josiah ‘stead of biting chunks out of each other?”

“All right, Nate.” Josiah appreciated the loyalty, but the teenager wasn’t helping much either. He swallowed down his coffee, rose from his chair, too. He, Chris and Ezra dumped the dishes in the sink and then he followed them out. Breakfast had been something of a bust.

He went out to check on J.D., found he was dry-eyed and playing coat monsters with Buck in the hallway. All was quiet in the bunkroom. Mentally crossing his fingers he returned to his bedroom to pick up his wallet and case of papers, then make a last bathroom call. By the time he came out again Buck had one arm in his own jacket, was helping J.D. button up his coat. Nathan was nowhere to be seen, but Chris was just exiting the living room at speed. No sooner did he see Josiah than he snapped his fingers and pointed to the stairs.

Puzzled, Josiah began towards him, and as he drew closer he could hear what Chris could.

There were raised voices coming from above.

“Vin and Ezra,” Chris said grimly, already on the move. Josiah fell in behind him and as they neared the top of the stairs, Ezra’s voice rang out quite clearly. 

“Stop making such a big deal out of it. You’ll be adopted just fine, it’s me that won’t.”

Josiah was frankly surprised that Ezra was even thinking along those lines, but that wasn’t the most important thing right now. 

“We ain’t tryin’ to ‘dopt you,” Vin’s voice proclaimed, just as clear, and roundly dismissive. 

When Chris and Josiah reached the top of the stairs, they found the two boys standing outside the computer room. Ezra, a retrieved homework assignment in his hand, half glanced at them as they appeared. Then he hissed something under his breath.

“What’s so damned different about you?” Vin at once responded to whatever had been said. He’d seen them, too, but clearly wasn’t so inhibited by their arrival on the scene.

“I’m not one little bit the same, Vin Tanner.” Ezra spoke through his teeth. He gave Vin a hefty shove against the wall to punctuate the strength of his feeling, and that made Josiah raise his voice.

“Hey! Quit that, the pair of you!”

“Fostered ain’t you?” Vin snapped back, getting in a quick shove of his own, hard enough to make Ezra squawk. “Don’t belong, neither of us. We’re the same.”

“Oh no we’re not!” Ezra was jeering, no longer seeming to care there were adults present. “I have a mother that actually wants me!”

“Stop it,” Chris snarled, barreling between them and pulling Vin firmly out of range. “Right now!”

“Boys, boys!” Josiah said, dismayed. “What’s going on here?”

Vin had gone red in the face, body stiff with fury as he struggled against Chris’s grip. His blue eyes were flashing, a lightning storm at sea. “Your ma wants you?” he said in a way that made Josiah’s gut hurt because it was so unlike him, so designed to wound. “Oh yeah, Ezra. Really looks like it.”

Ezra paled and made a half-hearted move towards him. Then he stilled, as if the fight had gone out of him. The flicker of his eyes towards Chris suggested he was intimidated by the young man’s proximity. 

Despite their frequent camaraderie Vin and Ezra had squared off with one another before. They were evenly matched, could both inflict damage, but right now Josiah figured neither of them was up to a scrap. Chris still had one hand curled over Vin’s shoulder, a gesture both protective and deterrent, and he’d raised a finger towards Ezra which was enough to keep him back. 

“Listen,” Josiah said in a warning rumble. “There’s a lot of stuff sloshing around – heavy stuff. I need you both to quit this. Calm down and back off.”

“He doesn’t know anything about my mother,” Ezra said. His voice was airless, all the bluster gone, and he pressed himself against the wall behind as if for support. 

“In jail!” Vin snapped back, as if that explained everything. Jeez but he was a feisty kid when he was roused. Josiah didn’t know how the boy knew about Maude Standish since he’d taken care not to broadcast all the details of Ezra’s background to the younger two. Vin was sharp, though, and he didn’t like being left out of conversations. “An’ you don’t know nothin’ about my mother neither, you fuckin’ superior ass!”

“That’s it!” Josiah growled, and he could feel his own tension bleeding out so fast he was nearly shaking. “Enough, right now, right here! Neither of you know the first thing about anything to do with each other’s cases, and neither of you have any right to go spouting nonsense about your brother’s family. It’s rude, it’s ignorant, it’s mean, and I won’t have it. You hear me, Ezra? And Vin, you use language like that again in my house towards anyone who lives here, and you’ll be learning poetry by heart every night for a damned month! Now both of you go get your teeth brushed and be out in the hall ready for your day in five minutes or there’ll be trouble. Git!”

There was a moment when he thought his unusually raised voice was going to have the opposite effect to that which he intended. And that it was going to precipitate an all-out attempt at a fist-fight. But then Ezra, still pale as wax, tossed his head. He pushed off the wall, skirted Josiah and Chris with a wary look, within a whisker of barging into Vin as he passed. Vin swiveled around to watch him go. His chest had begun to heave a little, as if he was about to cry, but he was managing to control it. He sent a look towards Josiah to gauge if there was any softening on offer, and when he saw not, he tilted his head up to Chris.

“Go on,” Chris said to him, but his voice had gentled. “And don’t start anything up with Ezra downstairs either. You and I are going to sort out some of this crap later, you hear? Everything’s OK, kiddo. Just do as Josiah says.” And he indicated the end of the corridor with his eyes. Swallowing manfully, Vin let Ezra get out of sight, and then slunk after him.

“Whoah,” Chris said when they’d both disappeared. 

“That wasn’t the word I was thinking of.” 

“You want me to go make sure it won’t be pistols at dawn in the bathroom?”

Josiah drew a shaky hand over his eyes, felt his shoulders relax slightly. “Yeah, better had. Thanks.”

“Those little guys.” Chris was pensive. “So much rage.”

“Ha,” Josiah said weakly. “You don’t remember you and Buck at that age then?”

“Actually I do.”

“You do?” Josiah didn’t really know why he was surprised.

“Uh-huh.” They’d begun back down towards the stairs, Chris in the lead. “I remember when Buck’s ma died.” Josiah’s stomach went a little cold at the reminder.

“Rough times.”

“Yeah.” Chris had stopped where he was. “Buck and me, we were supposed to be brothers but we didn’t know each other that well yet, hadn’t been here long. I remember all this big upset and Hannah takin’ Buck out. You just told me his mom had passed, not what happened.”

“Didn’t seem quite the topic for a kid your age.”

“Well it didn’t make much difference. There were some kids at school who knew somehow, made sure to tell everyone else. And me, I didn’t have a lick of sense, used it to get under Buck’s skin when I was mad about things – you know, how my mom had been good and his hadn’t, that kind of crap. Buck hit out at me too. Reckon we didn’t know how to handle it all any better than those two, or J.D.”

“You did in the end though.”

Chris’s head turned a fraction as he started downstairs. “Thanks to you and Hannah.” There was an ease in his voice, despite the lack of words. He didn’t do big speeches, but he did do sincerity. Josiah knew his eldest didn’t need a response either, was just putting it out there. He clapped a hand on the back of his shoulder anyhow when they reached the bottom stair, to show he’d registered the sentiment. Loved him for it.

Thank the Lord for Chris and Buck, he thought as Chris picked up pace towards the bathroom, but damn he missed Hannah. What a start to a difficult day.

Josiah just hoped, with an intensity that suddenly made him feel quite nauseous, that it wasn’t going to get worse.

*

After the court hearing, the decision, and the subsequent meeting with Cristina, Leila Beverley and another lawyer, Josiah drove to the university. He hadn’t told his colleagues what was happening today and was glad because they didn’t ask him anything.

That afternoon, as if on automatic pilot, he taught a class, then sat in his office and stared at his computer screen, doing not one piece of the work that he’d intended to do. Eventually giving in, he gathered up a pile of essay assignments and his big agenda, had a strangely one-sided conversation with a student of his that he ran into down in the lobby, and then set off for his car.

On the drive home he listened to a country music station and had the window down to get some fresh air on his face. Being in those court rooms, those closed places full of people making decisions about young lives that held no personal resonance for them, was choking.

He’d asked Nettie to keep Vin out until Nathan swung by to collect him, while Buck was going to be bringing J.D. and Ezra back from Long Holme, their Elementary School. Chris had said he’d be home soon as he could. Josiah wasn’t foolish enough to think he’d be able to hold off on the news until the whole bunch of them were arranged before him for a grand announcement, but he did hope they might all make it back around the same time.

The house when he let himself in was quiet and dark.

Josiah went straight to the high cupboard in the kitchen, took down the bottle of Bourbon. He found a good, heavy-bottomed glass, and poured himself a generous measure. Then he went into the living room and switched on a couple of lamps before sitting down in the swivel chair to wait for everyone to come home.

Nathan and Vin were the first, a good five minutes before any of the others. Nathan came in ahead, throwing his backpack down in the hall and yelling Josiah’s name.

“In here!”

Josiah heard a banging sound in the kitchen and then Nathan appeared holding a tall glass of juice which he proceeded to down in great gulps, looking at Josiah over the top of the glass as he swallowed.

“Better?”

“Yeah.” Nathan was breathless, wiped his mouth. “You?”

Josiah looked down at the tumbler of Bourbon. “Yeah.”

Then they both heard Vin coming down the hallway. Not at a run like he might have done a few months ago, but at a fast walk. Even his steps sounded nervous and as soon as he was in the room Josiah couldn’t bear to keep the news from them any longer.

“It’s all right,” he said. “It’s all all right.”

“What’s all all right?” demanded Nathan, who liked plain speaking, while Vin swiveled to look at him, and then back at Josiah.

“You are,” Josiah said, suddenly finding his eyes had filled with tears. “All of you. And we are. All of us. It went in favor... in god damned favor.”

Nathan’s eyes were wide and shiny in shock.

“In favor?” repeated Vin, head turning this way and that. “In favor?”

Josiah just nodded, unable to speak. The front door had opened again, and suddenly a tidal wave of Buck and J.D. was coming towards them.

“In favor!” Vin began to holler. “In favor, J.D.!”

Josiah just managed to get the tumbler down on the floor by the chair before J.D. had hurtled into the room and launched himself across the carpet towards the swivel chair. It rocked dangerously as the little boy landed on him, but Josiah didn’t care. All he could hear were voices yelling, ‘in favor!’ or, alternatively, ‘in goddamned favor!’ Buck was yapping about beers, too, and J.D. had burst into tears again. Struggling to get to his feet, Josiah found Vin with his arms locked around his middle, head banging repeatedly against his chest. By the time he’d extricated himself, made sure neither of the younger ones was going to combust with emotion, Chris was back too, that beautiful damned smile on his face that Josiah hadn’t seen in too long a time.

“Ezra,” he said, keeping Vin close by his side while Buck carried J.D. around upside down, whooping. 

The boy was hanging back in the doorway.

Chris gestured him in. “This is for you, too. Come on.”

Ezra took a tentative step forward. “Not really,” he said, shrinking away slightly when Chris ruffled his hair.

“Next time, Ezra.” Nathan kept making fists and bumping the air in a manic, repressed glee. “Now we’ve got this, you’ll be easy!”

Coming further into the room, Ezra just looked around. It seemed as if the atmosphere was catching, for there was a flush of color in his pale cheeks. A spark of pleasure in his eyes.

“Hey,” Vin said to him, breathless, finally letting go Josiah. 

“Hey,” Ezra responded, awkward. After the row outside the computer room they’d parted this morning in ice-cool silence. Buck came barging between them handing out bottles of beer and Coke and Ezra took a small sip from the bottle he’d been given. “I’m glad for you.” He took another, larger swig. Sugar for courage. “And um.. sorry for what I said. Josiah was right – it was rude.”

“An’ ignorant ‘n’mean.” Vin was grinning.

After a moment’s hesitation, while he decided how he felt, Ezra gave in to a rueful smile.

“Heck,” said Vin, pushing his long hair out of his face. He wandered over to his favorite arm of the couch, and Ezra, tentative, followed. Josiah, nearly tottering on his own feet, could just about still hear them. Vin straddled the chair arm, holding on with one hand while he drank his Coke. “I was mean too. An’ I’m sorry.” He grinned again. “You have Miss Garcia today fer punishment?”

Ezra relaxed at that, gave an elaborate shudder. Vin’s sudden hilarity nearly overbalanced him.

“All right?” Josiah heard in his ear, and realized Nathan was looking at him in concern.

“Don’t worry. It might look like I’m about to have a damned heart attack but I think it’s just release of tension or somesuch.”

“Well you’d better sit down anyhow, old man.”

“You’re right.” Josiah stepped backwards again and eased down into the chair, reaching rather blindly for his tumbler. He was aware that his face was wet and his eyes stung. “You know?”

“Uh huh?” Nathan sat down near him, just in case he was needed.

“The next thing?”

“What’s that?” Nathan was instantly suspicious, the smile fading from his face.

“No, no. It’s good. Next thing is... reckon we can start getting ready for Christmas. Really getting ready.”

Nathan’s smile came back.

Yes, that was the next thing. Build it up for the big finish on the 25th, even if it all came crashing down by the 23rd. Josiah took another goodly sip of Bourbon, let his family rampage around him.


	3. Artful Dodger

Only, of course, before that happened, something else came up.

Another telephone call – wasn’t it so often? It came six days’ later, while he was at work. Already late for a private tutorial class, the secretary of the department put through a call to his office that he described to Josiah as “angry, scary woman from some school.” Claudio, the only male secretary in the university and always efficient, could be flippant and entertaining in equal measure.

“Thanks,” Josiah said to him. He retreated back into his office, kicked shut the door and sat down. Most of what he gleaned from the ensuing conversation was that he needed to make an appointment right now to come into school and discuss an urgent problem with Ezra.

“Need to reschedule?” Claudio asked kindly when he reappeared.

“Tomorrow morning’s ten thirty group. Could you...?”

“I could. You’re late you know, father of six.”

Josiah looked at his watch. “Yeah, I’m out of here.”

He spent the night worrying, arrived at school ten minutes early for the appointment.

The Principal of Long Holme Elementary, Miss Gardine, was waiting for him in her office. She was a tall, athletic woman with fine skin, gray hair and a beaky nose. Having been at the school for some ten years, she knew the place inside out, and all Josiah’s boys had passed through her care at some stage. So when Josiah saw the serious face she had on her as he was shown into her office, he felt his heart sink. 

“Josiah,” she said, holding out her hand for a shake.

“Miss Gardine.”

“I think you can call me Helen by now. Behind closed doors.”

Helen Gardine was efficient, professional, and always just a tad distant. She probably had degrees in child psychology and sociology as well as teaching certificates, would always pass a few moments on Parent-Teacher evenings asking Josiah intelligent questions about the system and how he and the boys were coping with it. Without ever appearing to harbor any especially warm feelings towards any of them.

Josiah sat when he was directed to with a hand wave. 

“How’s things?” There had scarcely been a conversation between them that hadn’t started that way. 

“Good, thank you.” And he had never given any other response.

“How’s Vin coming along? His class really miss him.”

Josiah couldn’t help his ridiculous surge of parental pride. Vin could be quiet, the kind of quiet other kids sometimes didn’t like. He could be uncompromising and headstrong, must have given the school palpitations when he’d first taken to going missing from class, must be a challenge sometimes to keep him sitting in his chair, but he had friends. He was missed. 

“He’s coming along kinda slowly, I must admit. Took a hell of a hit with that virus and it’s taken a lot out of him. But we’re getting there.”

Helen Gardine nodded. “Give him all our best wishes, won’t you? Tell him to keep up his reading practice.”

“I’ll do that.”

She centered a file on her desk, then turned slightly to angle her screen so she could see it and he couldn’t.

“Right,” she said, and something about her voice made Josiah’s heart sink further. “Ezra.”

“I know he has a mouth on him,” Josiah began, over-compensating. “But I really don’t think he means to be rude.”

“Well if only that were all it was, frankly.”

Already defeated, Josiah spread his hands so she’d carry on. Miss Gardine glanced at her screen, then down at the file. “Don’t get me wrong, Ezra is a good student,” she said, “and that we already knew. We were pleased to have him back despite some of the upsets last time he was with us. He’s attentive in class, full of intelligence. But I also have to inform you that smart as he is, he... well, unfortunately there’s no other way to put it. Your Ezra is a compulsive thief.”

“Ah.”

“And I’m afraid it’s not just other children’s candy bars, or winning favors with his card tricks, or pencils from the store cupboard. I have no doubt he has the... skill to lift those at any time he likes, but really he’s come back to school with a far more concerning behavior type.” She pushed the file over to him. “You can read the affidavits of several members of staff and other parents. Plus we have the testimony of various students in fourth and fifth grade. Ezra’s locker has been found full of personal items belonging to other people. And a good deal of cash. We thought a professional burglar had been into the staff room! But it turns out it’s your foster child, Josiah. Consistent theft, since the first day he came back here. At a level that really beggars belief... and could be referred to the police and juvenile courts if we had a mind.”

Josiah felt his heart beginning to race. “I hope that won’t be necessary.”

“Well I hope so too – of course – but seeing as the amount of cash and the value of some of the objects is so high... ”

“Miss Gardine,” Josiah said, his voice steely. “I hope you’re not suggesting that Ezra is acting for anyone else?”

She had the grace to blush. “I hardly think you’re the Bill Sikes type, Josiah. And there’s no evidence of anyone else being involved. But nevertheless, all put together it’s much more significant than petty theft.”

“So what are you saying?”

“Well normally, of course, there would be some sanction, some removal of privilege. A warning which if ignored would lead to suspension.”

“But in Ezra’s case?”

“In Ezra’s case I’m not sure a warning would make much difference. This... habit of his seems very ingrained. I believe his mother is in prison for grand larceny?”

And the rest, Josiah thought glumly. “Listen,” he said, knowing it was time for one of his save-the-day speeches. He’d gotten Buck, Chris, and Vin out of dire straits at school on more than one occasion by managing to eloquently appeal to a teacher’s natural sympathy for their charges. “I know Ezra is a handful. And such behavior is a long, long way from acceptable. But he’s in a difficult place right now. He had a traumatic experience recently, was hurt in a way that a self-sufficient child like him finds incredibly stressful. The kid doesn’t know where his future lies. His mother’s not due for release for at least another six months and even then it’s unclear he could go back and live with her. He’s not known a stable home in many years, perhaps ever, and I think... I really think this habit of his is for... well, for comfort.”

Miss Gardine was not a woman without compassion, he knew that. And yet she had the greater good of the school to consider at all times, always. Of course she did.

“I think you’re right. It’s almost certainly a comfort mechanism. And, believe me, Ezra is not in other ways a difficult child to have in the school – he’s smart, he’s polite, he does his assignments, he’s not aggressive or willfully disobedient. From what little I’ve known of him in the past I’d have called him gregarious by nature. But right now he’s a loner, and not...” She hesitated and Josiah steeled himself for the words he knew were coming, and which he somehow could hardly bear. “Not popular with the other children. We always observe him alone at recess, especially since he came back this time. He doesn’t seem able, or willing, to make friends, although I have no doubt that the other children often make it hard for him.”

Not popular. No friends. Alone.

Now that. Whatever else had been the problems, none of the others had ever suffered from that. Buck had always been surrounded by a gang, Chris could alienate people but also attract them, Nathan had a small, loyal coterie who’d stand behind him against the bullies, and both J.D. and Vin were apparently never without playmates at recess. But to think of Ezra standing alone, aloof, rejected, probably doing nothing but plotting his next crime, when he should have been playing...

“What’s your suggestion?” he asked.

“Well you’ve already told us that his case and placement with you is up for review soon. And he’s already had some time being home schooled.” She paused, looked at her screen.

“Home schooling didn’t really suit him.” Josiah felt like he’d arrived at an impasse. Normally someone like Miss Gardine would be scornful of the overall benefits of home schooling over a professionally run institution like Long Holme, but now here she was trying to prod Josiah into taking Ezra back out of school again. Consigning him to Nettie Wells, God bless the woman. “I’d prefer, if at all possible from your point of view, to keep him in mainstream education.” He didn’t add that it might not be for very long anyway, for that seemed a given.

“I understand, but staff and children here – many of them – are not likely to remain unaware of who’s been behind this theft. Once they work it out...”

“They will make his life intolerable.” Josiah said it for her. He sat and struggled with it for a few moments, grateful, in spite of everything, that Miss Gardine was leaving him to cogitate. It did make sense to haul the boy back out of school, let Miss Nettie do her best until Christmas. Especially if he was likely to be more of a pariah here now than ever. And then... well if he was staying on with them – dear God please let him – maybe they’d have to look into a different school. But on the other hand... Ezra had to learn this lesson. Hell, yes, this lesson more than any other. To take him away from temptation wouldn’t help him face up to it, try and overcome the impulse.

“Whatever your decision, I have to say here and now that Ezra is already on a last warning. With the severity of the misdemeanor, staff here feel he has to be fast-tracked down the disciplinary route.”

Oh, Lord. It sounded as if the poor kid wasn’t any more popular with the teachers. Surely, surely, he must have a champion or two at Long Holme? He could be so charming, so interesting and genial when he wanted. Even Miss Gardine had recognized that. Finally, although he’d been putting it off, Josiah reached out to draw the file towards him, opened it on his lap and began to read.

_‘Ezra was going through the pockets of all the coats on the Sixth Grade hooks..’_

_‘When I challenged him he dropped something behind him, and then appeared to kick it underneath the playframe..’_

_‘I asked him if the tie-pin belonged to him and Ezra said yes it did. Later that day Mr. Almunia reported that his tie-pin, which he had left in the class desk drawer after it came loose, was missing, along with $15 petty cash which had just been handed to him for safekeeping by the students following the bake sale..’_

_‘When the locker was open I could see three watches and some items like scarves or handkerchiefs piled up inside...’_

A strangely colorful image came to Josiah’s mind. Lord, Ezra truly was an incarnation of one of Fagin’s pickpocketing urchins. It would almost be impressive if it wasn’t so damned tragic.

Josiah shut the file, having only read half the pages inside.

“All right,” he said, heavy-hearted. “He’s on a last warning. You’ll tell him. I’ll tell him. And in the meantime...”

“We do have a child psychologist attached to the school who would be willing to work with him.”

“Yeah, I know. She was real good last time we had trouble with Vin and skipping classes.”

Miss Gardine made a face as if she didn’t really want to be reminded of all the problems Josiah’s kids had given her down the years. “Tanya’s no longer with us I’m afraid. We have Tom Hart in the position now. And we can set up some sessions if you agree. Ezra will have to undertake to attend, though. Everything he’s taken has been temporarily... requisitioned.” For a second Josiah thought she was going to say ‘seized’. “We will expect him to return all items and cash where possible to its rightful owners, with a full apology. We will expect him to solemnly undertake to treat his fellow students and staff here with respect and honesty from now on. And he must understand that one more incident of this type, or indeed any other, will result in immediate and permanent expulsion from the school.”

Immediate and permanent expulsion. Josiah hoped she had not been longing to get those words out all along. He could just imagine her saying them to Ezra, who would not bat an eyelid, just internalize in that disconcerting way he had. Immediate and permanent. Expulsion. As he confoundingly seemed to make sure happened everywhere he went. If the kid wasn’t running away, he was making darned sure people sent him away.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, to all of it. And thank you, Helen. For not throwing him out today.”

She raised a brow at that, but she did relax slightly. Her agenda was not always one that fitted with Josiah’s, but she’d always tried to do everything by the book, to be as accommodating as she could be, even though she’d often clearly wanted shot of the problems. “The bell will go for change of classes soon,” she said. “Why don’t I send for Ezra – we can speak to him together and then you can take him home early today as it’s Friday?”

“Well,” Josiah said, looking at his watch. “I have to go back to work myself. One of his brothers will pick him up at end of school.” He hesitated, wondering if he was supposed to change those plans, if she was basically saying the school would actually be delighted not to see young Mr. Standish again until Monday morning. “Is that not OK?”

Miss Gardine gave him a small, tight smile. “Of course that’s OK. I’ll speak to him during the last class. And then it will be over to you.”

Josiah returned the smile, just as tight. “So, enjoy my weekend, right?”

“Something like that.”

He gave back the file, thanked her for her time, looked gloomily along the corridor to Ezra’s classroom as he exited.

*

Really, Josiah had hoped to have the support of the whole family that evening. He didn’t want to put off talking to Ezra, and unlike with J.D. thought having everyone around might help. But Chris texted him to say he was going straight out after leaving work at the Travis place, and Buck followed it up with a cryptic – ‘no invite 4 me, C+EG, me on date wont b late B’. Of course, J.D. trilled “on a date, won’t be late!” all evening until Vin said he was going to darn well smack his head, and then Nathan exploded because there was too much noise around here and in any case he was sick to the back teeth of the pull-out bed, didn’t want tuna for dinner, and was going to sleep over with his friend Leroy.

Ezra himself had been shifty from the moment he got in from school. He seemed nervous, kept looking covertly at Josiah with big eyes. Then he did his best to avoid the other two even though Vin had been jonesing for his company all afternoon and usually straight after school they were thick as thieves until they found a reason to fall out with each other. J.D., whose moods were still going up and down like a yoyo, was not best pleased with either being threatened with a smack on the head, or an Ezra who growled “you just better leave me alone or else” when the youngest had some game in mind.

“Tuna, baked potato, broccoli,” Josiah said, as enticingly as he could, when the three boys had gathered in the kitchen after Nathans’s departure. And then he shook his head sadly at their faces. “So before you ask, no, you can’t all go join Nathan on a sleepover at Leroy’s.”

“Yuck,” Vin said, slinking into his seat. “I only want potato.”

“Well ‘only potato’ is not on offer.”

“Yuck,” J.D. chimed in. “Yucky yuck that’s just gross.”

Josiah reached for patience. “It’s what I’ve cooked, it’s what you’ll eat.”

“Cant we ha-?”

“No, we can’t have pizza every time you don’t like what’s on the table. Tomorrow might be pizza night. Tonight is tuna, potato, and broccoli night. Ezra, you OK with that?”

“Of course,” Ezra said smugly as he sat down. He was either trying to gain sympathy by being helpful, or else he was trying to irritate the other two. Probably both. “Broccoli is full of folates. It’s very healthy.”

Vin snorted. “Full of crap more like.”

“OK, mister, where’s this language come from? We don’t need it, all right? You had a bad day of schooling or what?” Josiah turned from the stove with the slotted spoon in his hand, dripping hot water on to the floor.

“Nope.” Vin was sulky. “Jus’ don’t like broccoli. Smells like cra... smells bad.”

“Perhaps that’s just my cooking.” Josiah turned back, took the vegetable off the heat. “I’m sure it’ll taste better than it smells. J.D., plates, please.”

Tuna off the grill, baked potatoes out of the oven, broccoli spooned from the steamer – Josiah got the food to the table. There was ketchup to hide the taste, glasses of water to wash it down. And ice cream for dessert. He was longing for a beer or glass of wine himself, but decided to leave it until after the showdown with Ezra. J.D., despite his complaints, ate most of his dinner. Vin was true to his word and ate the potato only before pushing the fish and greenery aside. Ezra ate a little of everything, but didn’t seem to have an appetite.

“No ice cream,” Josiah said, eyeing the remains on Vin’s plate.

“Not eating it.” Vin had a stubborn look about him. 

“You need the nutrition, son. It’s not even a big portion. You eat that and it’ll do you the world of good. You want to get better right?”

“I want something nice to eat.”

“That is something nice to eat.”

Vin picked up his fork, pushed it rebelliously into the broccoli, which, Josiah conceded, was something of a mush. He didn’t eat any, though, just shoved it further away.

“J.D.’s managed his, and it hasn’t killed him. C’mon, just a couple forkfuls.”

Vin jabbed a lump from the plate, stared at it with open dislike.

Ezra watched him carefully while sipping at his water. “Two broccoli for Aquaman,” he said unexpectedly when he’d laid aside his glass. “Add two tuna you get Mr. Freeze as well.”

Vin’s eyes snapped over to him. “You ain’t got them.”

“Have too.”

“We don’t eat for rewards,” Josiah began but they all howled at him. “OK, OK. We eat for ice cream. We don’t eat for toys. Or money.” 

“Ezra ain’t got Aquaman and Mr. Freeze anyhow.”

“You reckon?” Ezra said, his voice taunting. 

Josiah held up his hands. “Time out.” He very much wanted to challenge Ezra on his claims, but feared it might all be part of the same syndrome he was going to have to tackle with him after dinner anyhow. “Vin, last chance. You eating that good food I cooked? Going for some iron, some vitamins?”

Vin dragged his keen stare off Ezra and back to his plate. 

“Jared Keiperman at school has the Batboat with the flick discs, and he has Artic Batman and Aquaman and Mr. Freeze,” J.D. said, starting to mash up the last of his tuna and potato.

“Oh he has, has he?” Josiah said, giving Ezra a hard look. “You know this Jared Keiperman, Ezra?”

Ezra shrugged. But then Vin grinned his sweet, mischievous grin. “Heck you never won Aquaman and Mr. Freeze off Jared Keiperman?” he said, full of admiration and glee. 

Shooting Josiah a wary look, Ezra tried to remain casual. “Maybe.”

Vin looked at Josiah and then back at Ezra. He put the forkful of broccoli in his mouth, chewed it quickly with one eye scrunched closed, and then hooked another one. Then, making a face as if he’d swallowed something bitter and revolting, cut a corner off the tuna with the side of the fork. Josiah’s eyebrows went up. Two hunks of tuna went in and then Vin laid down his fork.

“OK,” Ezra said. He fished in his pants pocket, and then dropped two items on the table. Two distinctive mini-figures had been produced, one winter blue with a gritted teeth scowl, and one with a splodge of yellow hair. “You win.”

While they were busy high-fiving, Josiah got up from the table with a sigh. He went to get the raspberry ripple and the chocolate tubs from the ice box, dumped them on the table with bowls and spoons. He leaned against the dishwasher, watching, while the boys served themselves without much finesse. There were blobs of ice cream on the table and floor after a while, and much argument about how much J.D. had taken, and how it wasn’t fair because Ezra didn’t even like raspberry ripple anyhow, and why did Josiah have to buy this gross economy stuff because it just wasn’t as good as the usual brand.

“Boys,” he said. “I’m going to make myself some coffee and sit here in peace to drink it. When you’re done, I want you to clear the table. J.D. and Vin, you can have an hour gaming if you like. I think it’s Ezra’s turn to stack the dishwasher.”

He knew that Vin and Ezra would have caught the significance of his tone of voice in the last sentence. They exchanged looks, and he couldn’t help but be glad that, despite everything, the two of them always seemed to find this solidarity in the face of adult disapproval. J.D. just thought it funny that Ezra was getting twice the chores. His lascivious gaze was already on Aquaman and Mr. Freeze and Josiah could foresee trouble ahead.

“’K, go,” he said to J.D. and Vin who hung around when the plates and glasses were piled on the counter top or in the sink. “What are you waiting for? Go shoot bad guys, play Fifa soccer, smash up cars.”

“Cars!” J.D. was saying as they left, skidding and hopping out of the room in their socked feet.

“Bad guys.”

“Cars!”

“Kinect sport.”

“Cars!”

“Lord,” Josiah said, opening a cupboard to find a mug. There was a series of bangs as the boys crashed in and out of rooms, then the thump of feet banging up to the next floor of the house. Ezra was standing next to the dishwasher. He pulled it open slowly, then looked at the pile of dishes.

“You really want me to do this?”

“I said so didn’t I?”

“Yes,” Ezra said, picking up a pile of cutlery and dropping them in with a clatter. “But it’s just to distract me while you tell me stuff. I don’t need to be distracted. I know what you’re going to say and I know it’s bad.”

“Do you now.” Josiah filled his mug with steaming hot coffee and set it back on the table which was dotted with varicolored blobs of food. “Can you throw me a cloth?”

Ezra found one by the faucet, tossed it across the room. Josiah gave the table a perfunctory wipe, then tossed the cloth back so it landed back on the faucet. 

“Nice shot,” Ezra commented.

“You just carry on stacking the dishwasher. Distraction or helping out, both work for me. And you tell me what you think I’m going to say.”

Ezra began to sort the dirty dishes, methodical. “You were in school today. Miss Gardine called you in. And then she called me in during science. And I’m on a last warning. They’re getting ready to exclude me.”

“Uh-huh. And you know why you’re on a warning, right?”

Ezra balanced a large plate delicately in one hand, turning it this way and that. “They found some stuff in my locker.”

“That’s it? That’s why you’re on a final warning – they found some stuff in your locker?”

“Yes and it wasn’t even open. They had to break into it. My private locker.”

“And that ticks you off, huh?”

“Kinda.”

Josiah let a few moments pass. Ezra went on stacking. The logic and precision needed for a good job was evidently a challenge he quite liked. Josiah wondered if he’d obfuscated with Miss Gardine, too, rather than admitting what he’d done.

“Whose stuff was it in your locker, Ezra?”

“Mine.”

Inwardly Josiah cringed. “You know I know about all this don’t you? I mean, there’s really nothing to be gained from not telling me the truth.”

There was silence except for the steady tink of china against china.

“Bad enough that this has happened at all, son. Don’t you go making it worse by being dishonest with me.”

Ezra stopped what he was doing when he heard ‘dishonest’. He went on to his haunches, didn’t look at Josiah. In fact he seemed to be fascinated by the little spring catch on the detergent dispenser.

Trying not to let his disappointment in the boy overcome him, Josiah tried again. “If you don’t talk to me, I can’t help you.”

Ezra shrugged, flicked the dispenser so it made a plastic snapping sound.

“So that’s it? Nothing to say?” Josiah waited only a few seconds more. With a child well schooled in behavioral norms he might have gone in tougher, quicker. Let Ezra see a rare glimpse of the old Testament Josiah. Chris and Vin had both had upbringings lacking in moral direction, and he’d always trod carefully with them, too. Still did with Chris most of the time, even though in many ways Chris often displayed the most honed moral compass of them all. And Vin had been a quick learner. Buck, Nathan, and J.D. came from fractured and damaged family situations, but they’d all received a grounding in the rights and wrongs of the world. Ezra – poor kid – seemed to have been given a whole heap of mixed messages, right from the get-go. Seemed to have inhabited, thanks to his mother, a strange world of respectability and education on the one hand, and a totally detached and amoral existence on the other. No wonder he was all over the place. “OK then,” he said, getting up from the table with his coffee cup. “You finish up there. If you have schoolwork, go do that. Then go right to bed.” He didn’t like his own cool voice, or the way he quietly left the kitchen without another word or backward look. But he hoped Ezra would realize how seriously he was taking the problem. 

Depressed, he went to switch on the TV, then sat on the couch wishing again that Buck and Chris were at home. Or Nathan, who had a preternaturally wise head on his shoulders. From upstairs he could hear occasional bumps from the other two which was probably them jumping off the couch up there. After another five minutes the door of the living room was pushed open and Ezra appeared in the doorway. He was very upright and serious.

“I stacked all the dishes. I put in detergent and set the cycle. Eco wash. I hope that’s suitable.” Despite Josiah’s inner prayers, the boy would give him nothing else. “The history assignment is online so I need the computer.”

“OK, well I told Vin and J.D. they had an hour so we need to let them have that. You go read in your room until they come down. Then you can do the assignment. Is that all you have to do?”

“Yes, sir.”

Oh so proper and polite. Oh so damned frustrating.

J.D. came down from upstairs some time before the allotted hour was up. Something had made him weepy and he said he wanted to go lie on his bed, which was part of the pattern at the moment. He was best not challenged about it, but left alone for ten minutes, not much longer. Vin trailed into the living room, big-eyed with weariness. 

“What’s up with Ezra?” he demanded since, instead of greeting him, Ezra had apparently just slipped from his spot on the bottom bunk and hurried away to the stairs.

“He has an assignment to do.”

“Huh.” Vin didn’t seem interested in that. He just wandered across from the door. Not even knowing how much he was helping, he slumped on to the big couch next to Josiah, hunkered in close.

*

After a while Josiah removed the arm he’d put around Vin, went along to check on J.D. Found him under his quilt, fully dressed but asleep. His brow was cool, his lashes wet. 

“Oy, baby boy,” Josiah murmured. Back in the living room Vin was sleepy too, didn’t want to move from his spot. Josiah sat back down next to him, replacing his arm. They were disturbed when Buck came in. Earlier than Josiah had been expecting, and with Nathan sheepishly in tow.

“Couldn’t work at Leroy’s,” Nathan said in explanation when Josiah looked surprised. “Called Buck to pick me up.”

“Had a decent evening meal though?” Josiah was lightly caustic.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Because apparently the tuna was yuck and the broccoli smelled like crap.”

Nathan grinned at him. “I like my own bed anyhow,” he said. “My own room.”

Feeling chastised, even though he knew Nathan hadn’t meant it like that and was just teasing him, Josiah nodded. “I’ll get to it,” he said, which really seemed to be his mantra these days.

“Well you know,” Buck put in, “that box room is kinda small for a big lummox like Nate. With all his books and experiments. Reckon there’s no point him movin’ up there - he needs to stay in your study. I mean, you really need to change your study into Nate’s room.” And he threw himself on the opposite couch, began to toe off his boots. Josiah could smell a mixture of beer and aftershave.

“Oh really.” Josiah didn’t think he liked the sound of all that.

Nathan, intrigued, remained in the doorway.

“Well it’s an idea.” Buck waggled his eyebrows, then grinned at Nathan. “Time to put your claim in, bro.”

“You need to work,” Nathan said to Josiah. “All your nice stuff’s in there, that easy chair you like.” He narrowed his eyes, as if thinking of possibilities. “Although it might be cheaper. I wouldn’t need the room redecorated. Wouldn’t need a new bed either, the fold-up’s just fine I guess.” He nibbled a fingernail. “Although I might need a desk.”

Josiah sent his eyes to the ceiling. “A desk,” he said. 

Nathan laughed at that, which disturbed Vin. “Just shush,” the younger boy grumbled.

“Bed time.” Josiah squeezed him tight. “Go.”

“Ugh,” Vin complained. “Too sleepy.”

“I could carry you,” Nathan threatened.

“You could butt out,” Vin returned and Josiah made a tsking sound. Where was all the language coming from? Not Miss Nettie for sure. Probably Chris.

Nathan just laughed again. “Come on, little guy.”

“Not a little guy.” Vin was cranky, but not seriously. He pushed himself up from Josiah’s side, slid his feet to the carpet, yawning. “’Night, Josiah.”

“I’ll be coming to tuck you in. Nate, can you go check up on Ezra? He’s upstairs doing an assignment but he really needs to finish up.”

“Prob’ly ain’t doing the ‘signment no more,” Vin said sagely. “Prob’ly doing something he shouldn’t.”

“Yeah, thanks for the input, son. Now go to bed.”

When the two of them had left the room, Josiah turned his attention back to the other couch. Buck had a certain louche satisfaction about him that made Josiah uneasy. Not to mention a smear of lipstick on his jawbone.

“So. And what kind of an evening have you had?”

Buck got a faintly smug look on his face then. “You know me,” he said.

“Listen, Buck.”

The young man – and Lord, he really was a young man now and not a teenager – crossed his arms.

“Know exactly what you’re going to say.” He made a face when Josiah looked askance. “OK, I don’t know exactly what you’re going to say but I’m guessing it’s along the lines of... take it easy with all the girlfriends, practice safe sex, remember your mother.”

Josiah had to admit that some of that had indeed been in the back of his mind. The girlfriends and safe sex part anyhow. Not Buck’s mother, though, and he was actually a little shaken that Buck had gone there, especially after Chris had mentioned her earlier.

“You haven’t-” he began, not able to help the question popping out of his mouth.

Buck looked daggers at him then. “Just the regular girlfriends,” he growled.

“Well..” Josiah was defensive. “When you mentioned your mother...”

“Don’t worry.”

“OK.” In truth, Josiah knew that Buck was a perfect prince. It was just that he couldn’t seem to stick with one girl – needed always to be moving on. Josiah was many years out of the dating game himself (a conscious choice) and he figured now, and for Buck’s generation, it was something of a jungle out there. “But the safe sex thing stands, right?”

“I’ve told you before,” Buck said, long-suffering. “I don’t go anywhere without protection.” He couldn’t help a smirk. “Either I take a pocketful of rubbers, or I have Chris at my back. Sometimes both.”

“Yeah, yeah. And where does Chris stand on protection?”

“Well that you’d have to ask him.” Buck’s face changed slightly. “And her.”

“Ella Gaines?”

“Yeah. Her. She’s a little crazy, I told you. And she makes Chris a little crazy.”

“Doesn’t sound good.”

“Believe me,” Buck said darkly, “Ella Gaines is very far from good.”

“So you keep saying. Care to enlighten me any further?”

But Buck wouldn’t be pushed. “Nope,” he said. “Chris’s business.” He crossed one socked ankle over his knee, laced his hands behind his head, brazenly changed the subject. “Anyhow, how’s everything back here at the ranch? Same old same old?”

Josiah let himself be deflected. “Something like that. Some trouble at school with Ezra.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“Hmmm. Not sure I need to fill you in completely, not yet. He’s kind of in disgrace. Perhaps that’s all you need to know for now.”

Buck looked wildly curious. “Like, kicked out of school in disgrace?”

“Could be.”

“Sheesh.”

“Indeed.” Josiah sighed.

Buck gave him a careful look, as if judging whether to be light-hearted or not, and in the end steered a middle ground. “Well hey,” he said. “Like Chris says, if he was perfect, he wouldn’t be one of us.”

“Right.” 

“And it wouldn’t be so much dang fun.”

Josiah felt a strange desire for a good belly laugh. Buck was good at that.

*

Ezra kept it up for a while, his cool front of silence. Right into December. Perhaps he’d decided that since there was clearly no point in trying to deny anything to Josiah – who’d read the affidavits and spoken to Miss Gardine – he might just as well not speak at all. That way at least he didn’t have to deal with any of it. Go through all the motions of contrition and punishment.

But he was clearly miserable. Not sleeping, not eating miserable. Josiah had mentioned the whole fiasco to Chris and Buck, although not to the others. It was yet another example of him leaning on them for support, which made him feel hellish guilty. Although guilty or not, it was practical, too – help in shoring up the firewall.

“Ezra’s class are being real mean to him,” J.D reported one Saturday morning without being asked. He’d made sure Ezra and Vin hadn’t come to the table yet before he spoke, and then reached over and tugged on Buck’s sleeve. It wasn’t entirely clear if he was full of concern or if, as Chris would say, he was ‘stirring the shit with a stick’. “An’ sayin’ mean things about him.”

“Mean things like what?” Chris had asked, immediately on the alert. He paused in the act of whisking pancake batter in a jug.

J.D. looked slightly fearful, for Chris could be indiscriminately fierce when his protective hackles were on the rise. Nathan looked like thunder, too. Any suspicion of bullying would always get his attention, make him mad. Things had been pretty quiet for him at school lately, but Josiah knew his tormentors had only backed off for the time being because Nathan had fallen in with Leroy and some of the other, tougher kids. The ones on the football team, who did track and field in the summer. Had muscles. 

“Names.” J.D. was timid.

“What names?”

J.D. wriggled and shuffled in his seat. “It’s all right,” Josiah assured him. “You don’t have to say, but maybe it’s a good idea if you do. Just to us.”

“Dirty thief,” J.D. muttered, his small face flushing. “An’ the f-word. Callin’ him an.. an f-word klepto. I don’t know what that is.”

“Oh I think dirty thief about covers it,” Chris said grimly.

“An’ then Ezra just says the f-word back to them so they try ‘n fight him.” His eyes were wide, as if he were shocked with the very idea of Ezra squaring up to other kids.

“When did this happen, J.D.?”

“Dunno.” The little boy seemed to cotton to the fact that now he’d opened the subject he was going to have to follow it through. “This week.”

“You actually saw this, or just heard other kids talking about it?”

“I heard the names, it was at recess and I was right there. Didn’t see the fight but everybody was talkin’ about it. There’s some kids sayin’ me ‘n’ Vin’n’ Ezra are mongrels. I don’t know what that is either.”

Josiah rubbed a fist across his forehead. “We’ve talked about this before haven’t we,” he said. “There’ll always be kids – and grown-ups – who say hurtful things. I know it’s hard but you have to try and ignore it. Stick with your friends.”

“Ezra ain’t got no friends.” J.D.’s voice was small.

Buck put a finger to his lips then, and a few seconds later Vin and Ezra came into the kitchen area.

“Hey, boys.” Josiah rather hated his own casual tone.

“Hey.” Vin was cheerful enough but they both looked like they could do with a long rest vacation in the sun. J.D. peeped at Ezra through his dark lashes, and Ezra gave him a suspicious look.

“Gonna do pancakes,” Chris said from the stove. “Who wants pancakes?”

“Zit someone’s birthday?” Vin asked.

“Nope, just feel wild and crazy.”

Vin giggled. “Me,” he said. “I want one.”

“J.D.?”

“Duh.”

“Okay that’s none for J.D.,” Chris said, straight-faced. “Ezra?”

After the meal, which was boisterous, not to mention filling, Josiah tried again with him. He’d observed Ezra while he was shoveling in pancake, thought despite his appetite and willing banter, he seemed preoccupied. On edge.

“How’s things at school anyhow?” was his brazen opening gambit when Ezra came back through the kitchen later. He was bound for the utility with an armful of the clothes he’d worn all week, and Josiah was in the throes of puzzling over anomalies on the family calendar hung on the wall.

“Usual.”

“Which is?”

A curl of the lip. “Usual asshats.”

Josiah shook his head, pulling off his glasses. “Oh, Ezra. I know there are some idiots spouting off. J.D. told us. Why didn’t you? Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on at school, especially when there are kids throwing their weight around?” He paused, then plowed on, saying pointedly, “Have you given back all the stuff yet, that was in your locker? I know you said it was yours, but that wasn’t true, was it?”

Ezra stared at him, then dropped his eyes. He didn’t say a word, was giving off a determination that he wasn’t going to, either. Josiah fought his inclination to reach out for the boy. They weren’t at that stage, though. It was taking a darned sight longer with Ezra than it had taken with any of the others and Josiah was fearful of spooking him when he was clearly wound up. He needed Ezra to know, though, that they were on his side, whatever he’d done. 

“All right,” he said. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be happy to listen. Just make it soon, OK? And in the meantime, are you going to dump that laundry or just stand there holding it?”

With a huff, Ezra disappeared into the utility. Matters tended to go awry when the younger ones were allowed to work the washing machine and tumble dryer, but Josiah did insist they at least deliver and collect their dirty clothes. He knew there was a pile of tee shirts, pants and socks a mile high in there. Just waiting for whoever was on laundry duty this weekend, which Josiah sincerely hoped wasn’t him.

“Make sure you separate out the whites!” he called. Few things could make Ezra madder than one of his pristine shirts going through a cycle and ending up a different color.

A second or two later, Ezra re-appeared. “Say,” he said, as if the earlier conversation hadn’t happened. “Can Vin and me go to Mrs. Wells’?”

Josiah was surprised. “Sure. You gonna walk the dogs?”

“Vin wants to see the horses. I want to see the cats.”

“You going to take J.D.?”

“He’s going to the park with Nathan and Buck.” Ezra flicked his bottom lip. “Although we didn’t want to take him anyway.”

Josiah was inwardly bemused. The kid could be so up front and honest in some matters.

“All righty then, but make sure you bundle up, don’t outstay your welcome and mind out for cars. Do I need to warn Nettie you’re coming?”

Ezra shrugged, still not looking him in the eye. “If you like.”

“How about I come fetch you in an hour or two? I need to take back that dish she made the cherry pie in.”

“Guess we could take it.”

“Nettie’s precious artisan pie dish? Oh Lord, no. My life wouldn’t be worth living if one of you boys dropped it on the way.”

Ezra looked disgruntled at the suggestion of clumsiness, but the telephone rang then and he took the chance to scoot out before Josiah could buttonhole him any further.

An hour after the boys had gone up the hill, Josiah wrapped the pie dish in a cloth and put it in a jute bag. 

“Going to Nettie’s!” he shouted out as he left, although he wasn’t actually sure anyone was in.

At Nettie’s house, the kettle was on the hob and Nettie was baking again. Ezra was alone by the fire in the big living room, absorbed in a checkers match against himself, and Vin was playing outside.

“They OK?” Josiah asked Nettie, fearing a spat. He laid the bag with the dish on the trestle table.

“They’re fine. Spent time with the animals, played some game out there and then Ezra wanted in. Tea?”

“Sounds good.”

Josiah breathed in the smell of bread and spiced fruit that filled the kitchen. It was like stepping back in time, with Nettie’s old-fashioned range and all the old standalone pieces of furniture. When the tea was brewed they stood at the kitchen window with their mugs, and watched Vin out in the yard, happy messing around on his own in the winter sunshine.

“How’s he coming along?” Josiah asked. “You know Miss Gardine always wants a report, and I’m spending way too much time going in to speak to Miss Gardine right now.”

“Well that one was always going to keep Miss Gardine busy,” Nettie said, knowing he was referring to Ezra. She gave Josiah a sideways look. “Certainly kept me on my toes, even those few weeks.”

Josiah knew that well enough. Just as Nettie Wells and Vin Tanner had some kind of affinity, Nettie and Ezra had the habit of rubbing each other up the wrong way. “And things easier now it’s just Vin?”

“For me, not sure about Vin. He likes the one-on-one attention, it suits him, and it helps him. But I think it was good for him being with another child who had a, let us say, very different way of learning. They sparked off one another.”

“Ho,” Josiah said. “Sparked? So that’s what you call it.”

Nettie didn’t expand, and Josiah didn’t expect her to. She knew better than to highlight her preferences in front of him, even if she felt them. She’d always found Chris and Buck difficult, for example, while in her eyes J.D. and Nathan could do no wrong. “Most of the time Vin is a delight to tutor. And he’s gaining confidence with the reading – I just hope the school can keep it going when he goes back. So, I’ve got no real problems with his learning, and you can tell Miss Gardine that. There is one thing though.”

“One thing.” Josiah felt that coil of unease in his gut, that he always got when he knew a problem was about to come up with one of the boys. “I don’t like the sound of that, Nettie.”

“You may need a word with him.” 

“What’s he done?”

“Lord, it’s not like that. I mean, he has his moments, but no... this isn’t about his behavior as such.” Nettie sipped at her tea. “It’s just that he got to talking to me the other day, about the adoption coming through and all that.”

Vin had wandered back into view at that moment. He was on top of the old-fashioned wooden playframe that Nettie Wells had in her garden, sitting nonchalantly across the bars, one leg swinging. The boy had impressive balance and strength (when he was fully fit), was worryingly fearless, and if it hadn’t been for the scoliosis Josiah thought he’d have done well at gymnastics and tumbling. Good eyesight, too. He caught sight of them through the window and lifted a hand to wave.

Josiah waved back. “It was a good moment for him.”

“Yes.”

Oh boy. Josiah didn’t like how Nettie said ‘yes’. She said ‘yes’ as if she actually meant ‘no’.

“Oh come on, Nettie. What the hell’s he been saying?”

“Calm down, Josiah.”

“What’s not calm about me?”

Nettie tutted. “He’s happy about the adoption, of course he is. I think in the long run it will help him enormously in all kind of areas, not least at school. It’s just that he’s also a little confused.”

“What, he doesn’t really believe it’ll stick?”

“Goodness no. If you say it’ll stick, he’ll believe it. Neither you nor Chris can do much wrong in his eyes, and he has total trust in both of you. I think he’s worrying that maybe he’ll be obliged to become a Sanchez under law, which might mean losing something he really doesn’t want to lose. He loves that the adoption shows you want him – wouldn’t have it any other way, of course – but he’s sad that it shows his blood family don’t. His mom principally, and you know how deeply that whole Tanner thing goes with Vin. Oh and I think he and Mr. Ezra may have been squabbling about mothers in general which doesn’t help.”

Josiah groaned. “Not that again.”

“It’s the thing that’ll either unite the three little guys, or... not.”

“Unite would be nice.”

“Especially at Christmas. I don’t know, it seems as if Vin feels like he has to be careful talking about these things at home or something, what with J.D.’s mom and all. He doesn’t want to upset anyone. You least of all.”

“All right, I’ll have a word, see what’s going on in his head – if he’ll let me in any easier than Ezra. Like blood out of a stone with that boy right now.”

Josiah looked out the window again, thinking about the two of them – Ezra stewing tight-lipped over the checker board, determined not to be outwitted into revealing himself, Vin hugging his doubts and fears close to make sure they didn’t hurt anyone else. Both way too young to have such cares. Both so different, and yet so much the same. 

Vin was now swinging two-armed up and down the monkey bars and Josiah felt a burst of joy to see him. “Now that’s a good sign. You reckon he’s getting stronger?”

“Most of the time I do.” Nettie always hedged her bets. “Wouldn’t want him going down with anything nasty this winter though.”

“Nettie, please! One problem at a time. That’s what I tell them all.” 

“And do they take any notice?”

“Are you kidding?”

“Anything you want to get off your chest?”

Josiah considered it. Nettie was a good friend, and had loved Hannah dearly. She was invested in the Sanchez household, helped out in ways large and small. But they didn’t see eye to eye about everything, not to mention the fact that he didn’t feel good about burdening an elder, even if she was tough as old boots.

“Oh, just Chris and his girlfriend. We’ll work it out.”

“Good luck. Doesn’t sound like my area, so I wish you well.” She drank more of the tea, then set the mug down, glancing again out of the window. “Maybe Chris could be the one to do the talking? Vin thinks the world of him, I know. Perhaps it would distract him from his girlfriend problems?”

“Huh. You could be right. You are one smart old biddy, you know that? I was wondering about getting him on Ezra’s case, but maybe this would be better.” Josiah sighed. “As if he didn’t have enough of his own headaches.”

“Chris is strong. Buck and Nathan are, too. Don’t worry so much about them shouldering some of your load, Josiah. Let them help you. They want to help you.”

“Yeah. They’re good boys.” He could have choked up then if he’d put his mind to it.

Nettie seemed to know that. She gave him an indulgent smile, and went to fetch the tea-pot for a refill.

*

A couple of days later, Josiah woke with a start in the middle of the night, thinking he’d forgotten something important. Like locking the sliding doors to the deck. Or preparing something vital for a class tomorrow.

As soon as he sat up though, he knew what had woken him.

From up the main corridor of the house he could hear a thumping sound. Along with that there was an intermittent moaning that made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. His first thought was that Vin had been taken ill again, felt a panicky grasp in his gut. And then he thought, rather from left field, that Buck had brought home a girlfriend. Which was strictly verboten.

Josiah got quickly out of bed, ignoring the overnight chill. He hurried up the woodblock floor, turning on the overhead light as he passed the bathroom and Buck and Chris’s. Their door was closed. The thumping and moaning was definitely coming from the bunk room. Josiah pushed wide their slightly open door and let some, but not too much, of the light from the corridor drift in.

Vin was still asleep – at the moment. It was Ezra in trouble. He was rolling backwards and forwards into the wall, knees and elbows making the thumping sounds, and even though Josiah couldn’t make out what words he was muttering and moaning, he knew the boy was scared. 

Josiah went down to the floor by the bed. He didn’t say anything at first, just reached to try and carefully still the movement, worried the boy would hurt himself. Especially if woken suddenly while already in a blind panic. 

When there was no reaction to his touch, he tried his voice. “C’mon now, Ezra. Look, it’s all right. It’s Josiah. You’re all right.” 

As he cautiously maneuvered Ezra towards him, he could feel he was hot, lower body tangled in the quilt. Ezra stopped muttering for a moment, let himself slide away from the wall. Josiah rolled him over, saw his eyes were more or less open. “There,” he said, searching for recognition. He moved back a little, to give him space, a chance to focus. “It’s me. You’re safe. Just having a nightmare, Ezra. You come on down here if you want.” 

Ezra’s eyes were slashes of vivid green, fixing on Josiah at once but without really seeing him.

His arms flailed stiffly, as if they were still constricted, breath coming in little, panicky puffs.

“You’re home at Josiah’s house. Quite safe. Really, Ezra. Quite, quite safe.”

Ezra seemed to come more awake. There was a staccato set of blinks, almost like a nervous twitch. He gave a hunted look at the wall, then at the slats overhead. Then he toppled himself sideways off the bed. He scrabbled to reach Josiah, like a crab going under a rock. Josiah felt a pinch as one of the boy’s hands grabbed hold of his tee shirt. 

“Can’t get out.” It sounded like a sob although there were no tears.

“Just a bad dream,” Josiah repeated in a soothing rumble. He didn’t put his arm around Ezra’s shoulders even though he wanted to very badly. Poor kid didn’t need to feel constrained, even though he needed the comfort, too. Kind of summed up Ezra’s entire dilemma and Josiah’s heart ached for him. Ezra was shaky, unconvinced of his whereabouts.

“What is it?” came a sleepy voice from above at that point. “’s goin’ on?”

Vin’s head, upside down, appeared over the edge of the top bunk, framed by two hanks of hair. 

“Sssshhh,” Josiah admonished in a whisper. “Having bad dreams down here. No need to worry, you just stay there. Now, Vin...”

But Vin had kicked off his quilt with a huff of defiance. A second later his pyjama’d legs were sliding down the ladder and he’d landed on two feet quick as a blink.

“Hey, Ezra,” he said, dropping down on to the floor next to him. Smooth as quicksilver. “Hey, old Ez.” 

And then to Josiah’s amazement Vin settled down on crossed legs and began patting an absent hand between Ezra’s shoulder-blades. After a second the pat became more rhythmic. Vin’s hair was tangled, his face obscured in the dim light. Josiah could see he wasn’t really awake himself. “Dreamin’ again, Ezra.” Pat, pat. “That’s all it is.” Pat, pat, pat. “Jus’ those stupid old dreams.” His voice was sleepy and singsong.

Ezra didn’t respond at first. He was still snared in the barbed wire between nightmare and reality. All was panic and confusion, although he’d pressed himself almost impossibly close into Josiah’s side. Josiah could feel one of his hands still clutching convulsively into his tee shirt, could feel the thud of his heart.

“Hush now, son,” Josiah said quietly. He sent a small, encouraging nod over Ezra’s head to Vin. “It’s all right. You’re free. There’s nothing round you.” He continued to keep his arms well away. Being held tight was the last thing Ezra needed. Yet he did need to know he was safe. And gradually the combination of Josiah’s steady bass and Vin’s whispering treble seemed to get through. He lifted his head vaguely.

“There you are.” Josiah ducked his head to try and get a look in his eyes, make the connection. Then he risked an arm, sliding it round Ezra’s shoulders, giving him a warm squeeze, and then sliding it away again. “See? You’re OK, just here in the bunk room with me and Vin. It was a bad dream.”

Ezra blinked again, and then looked at Vin. “I didn’t steal Aquaman and Mr. Freeze,” he said, voice a little slurred. “Swear to God. I won ‘em.”

Vin, puzzled, gave Josiah an uneasy, questioning look. “I never said ya did, Ezra.”

Ezra’s brow creased in a deep frown. His hand, Josiah noted, had not relaxed at all and was still clenched around the cotton. It was his bad hand, too, was going to hurt him later if he kept it up. “But those other things,” he said, now sounding a little desperate. “Those other things...”

“What other things?” Vin let loose a yawn.

“’kay now, Vin, you did a real good job there,” Josiah said, reaching to ruffle his hair. “How about you shimmy up, go on back to sleep? Don’t want you getting cold. I’m going to take Ezra for a drink.”

Vin gave Ezra another sleepy look, and then nodded. He probably wouldn’t even remember any of this in the morning. Josiah shifted so he didn’t dislodge Ezra’s hand, but so he could make sure Vin got up the ladder without mishap. When he was up and burrowing himself back into his quilt, he got hold of Ezra’s locked hand.

“Suppose you let me go now, huh? That’s the hand you shouldn’t grip too hard with, remember? You loosen it up now... easy... Then we can go find you some juice or water, maybe one of your meds. Reckon you’re thirsty after that, and I need...” He was going to say ‘coffee’ but figured that wouldn’t be a good idea. “I need some water, too. You want to do that? It might help get the dreams out of your head. Can you walk, or d’you need a carry?”

Ezra swallowed a few times. He shook his head, then used the tight hold he had on Josiah’s shirt to get himself up to standing. Although wide awake now, he had a slightly stunned look about him, and was clearly still bothered by whatever had been in his head. He didn’t answer, but let Josiah steer him to the door, finally letting go. Josiah snagged a rug off the end of the bed, draped it around him, and kept a hand on his back as they went out into the brightly lit corridor. Ezra squinted in the light. He walked with a tentative, wayward step but somehow kept going.

In the kitchen Josiah saw him into a chair. He didn’t put the main lights on, kept it dim, and fetched them both a glass of water. When Ezra had taken a sip or two, he sat forward in the chair opposite him and said, “You been dreaming about the van and what those punks did to you again?”

“The tying up part.” 

Josiah tried to keep the rage out of his voice. “That was a real ordeal they put you through. Makes me so mad I could spit. Anyone would’ve been scared, so it’s no wonder you have nightmares. But they’ll fade, you’ll see. And you’re here now, with me, with us. We won’t let anything like that happen to you again, all right?”

Ezra still had a crease of anxiety on his smooth forehead, and his lips were trembling harder than Josiah had ever seen. It was the nightmare for sure, but it was something else, too.

“Tell me, son,” he said gently, knowing the confession was there, laid bare by the terror. “Just tell me.”

“I don’t know,” Ezra said, worried, chewing the inside of his cheek. He took a breath for courage. “Well, I think I may be going to hell, that’s all.”

Now that brought Josiah up with a start. “Who under the ever-loving sun told you that?”

Ezra shuddered. “The last family.”

“And they said what?”

“Mr. Finlay told me to call him dad and if I did he said he’d pray for my soul because I was a wicked sinner. But I told him I damn well wouldn’t so he got mad and said if I ever sinned again, even the littlest thing, nothing could save me.” He hunched over the water glass. “Nothing.”

“Well I hope to God I never meet this Mr. Finlay,” Josiah said, keeping his voice light although a wild fury burned in his veins. “Because I might have a few choice words to say to him.” He was surprised as well as furious, for Ezra Standish had never given the slightest intimation that he took much notice of anything to do with religious instruction or anyone who gave it. In fact, he and J.D. had had more than one clash over that very subject, J.D. being very fond of the more miraculous of the Bible stories, and Ezra brazenly unconvinced of anything he couldn’t rationalize. “And that’s why you bolted?”

“He was just always mad about something. And her.”

All Josiah knew thus far of the last placement made for Ezra was that the family – these Finlays – were regarded as successful in the fostering field. 

“Just mad and full of baloney?” he asked, meaningful. “Or anything else?”

Ezra blew out his cheeks. He was just beginning to regain his color, although he wasn’t relaxed, wouldn’t look Josiah in the eye. “He was such an asshat,” he said. “Real full of himself. So I took stuff from him whenever I could. And one time he caught me and whacked me on the hand with a slipper about ten times, so next day I stole the slipper and set it on fire.” 

“On fire?”

Ezra twisted his mobile fingers together. “Well, I kinda did this thing I know and blew it up on the front lawn. And then I had to run because I think he mighta killed me.”

Josiah didn’t say anything for a while, trying not to admire the spirit of rebellion too much, the satisfying image of the object of corporal punishment in an explosive conflagration of Ezra’s making. Then he cleared his throat. “You have any idea how many cops were put out to find you?” Ezra shrugged, and then Josiah said, his voice a little clogged, “He hit you with a slipper? Ten times?” 

Ezra nodded. “He was real mad.”

“Asshat.” Josiah said the word with feeling, thinking of another word entirely. He took a few breaths to calm himself, and then a good chug of water. “And now suppose you tell me why you think he was right and you’re going to hell?”

“You know.”

“Well maybe I do, but I’d like to hear you say it.”

Ezra put one elbow rather messily on the table top and propped his cheek in it. “I stole stuff at school. A lot of stuff. Nice, expensive stuff.”

“Uh huh. And why’d you do that?”

There was still the suspicion of a tremble about Ezra’s lips although he was trying manfully to be nonchalant. Defiant, even. “It’s fun.”

“I see.”

“Although Tom says it’s to make me feel better when I’m worried about things. Because I’m good at it and feel validated and all that shrink stuff.”

“Oh Ezra,” Josiah practically burst out, “You’re good at so many things! And you know it’s wrong, stealing. You’re not one of those kids who’s actually got no idea. And when you’re worried, son, you need to tell me. Or Chris. Or any of us! Doesn’t matter if you tell us every day, we want to know if you’re worried. So we can try and help before you go off and do these things that get you into so much trouble, give you so much heartache. Do you see that?”

“Finlay was real convincing,” Ezra said, and he looked up, eyes stormy. “And just so you know, I’m not sorry I took his things. Not one bit. And I’m not sorry I took the other things either – gave ‘em all back like Miss Gardine told me and said sorry for it about fifty million times to fifty million people, but I’m not sorry. Except for making you disappointed so’s you won’t sign the papers. So if I’m not sorry and I lied when I said it means in the end I’ll have no place to go at all except prison or hell.”

“And where’d you want to go, Ezra? Where would it make you happy to be?”

Ezra’s arms slid, boneless, on to the table. He laid his head on them. “Here,” he said, muffled. “Here, with you.” And then Josiah knew, just from one slight tremor across his shoulders and the occasional choked intake of breath, that he was crying. No fits of noisy sobbing like J.D., or silent tracks of heartrending tears like Vin, but the very way it was being stifled got Josiah right in the chest.

He got up from his place and rounded the table. Going down on his haunches next to Ezra’s chair he put his arm around him. Firm and unequivocal.

“And what makes you think you can’t be here with me? You think I’d send you away for the stealing? Well I wouldn’t, not even if you broke into the First National Bank of Denver and emptied all the vaults. I don’t like it, it’s wrong, and I badly want you not to do it, but that’s mainly for your sake, son. So you don’t mess up your life. And maybe you think now the adoption’s all sorted out with the others that I don’t care what happens to you? Well you’re wrong on that front, too. Because I do, we all do. When any of those those papers come up, whatever the deal, I’m going to sign ‘em all right. You belong here, Ezra. We’re a strange outfit the seven of us, but you’re part of it, as much as any of the others. And that’s what I’m going to be working for, whatever happens at Christmas. I’m not just going to let you go.” He paused, hugged his arm round the boy a little tighter. “However many headaches you give me.”

Ezra kept his head on his crossed arms for a minute more. Then he seemed to go limp.

“You’re not wicked, Ezra.” Josiah risked a little stroke to the back of the head.

“Not much good though,” came a scratchy, congested voice.

“Heck, there’s room for a little improvement – like Buck reminded me recently, you wouldn’t be one of us if there wasn’t room for a little improvement. Well yeah, perhaps a lot of improvement when it comes to you stealing things. But you know what? The signs are there already. Remember that book of Vin’s, the space one? You really wanted that book, didn’t you, and although you didn’t steal it, you did find a sneaky way to get it. But when you understood how much it meant to Vin, you felt bad, wanted to give it back. That’s not the act of a wicked boy who deserves lifelong punishment.”

“’s hard,” Ezra murmured.

“So let us help you. It’s what family does. Or should do.” He watched Ezra’s fingers tracing the grain of the table top. And then he glanced at the clock on the microwave, felt fatigue sliding through him. He rubbed Ezra’s back, and then rose stiffly to his feet. “Aren’t you tired?”

A sigh more than an acknowledgement.

“Suppose you come on back to bed then. It’ll be time to get up for school soon.”

There was a snort of disgust at that and Ezra dragged his head up from the table. As he hauled himself to his feet he reached out a hand towards Josiah. To steady himself. Or to ask for more comfort. Perhaps even thank him. Wisely silent, Josiah let him latch on. As they passed back up the hall to the bunk room, the older boys’ bedroom door cracked open, and Buck, dark hair sticking up, put his head out.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” he demanded, squinting in the light.

“Just getting some water. Ezra’s going back to bed now.”

“Thought I heard bangin’.” Buck’s jaw cracked in an almighty yawn. “Thought it was burglars.”

“Uh uh,” Josiah said, pressing a light hand against Ezra’s shoulder, just to show he was unmistakably there and on his side. “No burglars round here.”


	4. Season of Bad Will

There were mixed feelings in the air a couple of weeks later when Chris and Buck brought home the Christmas tree. It was a tad smaller than the usual one for a start, and the significance of carrying it up the hallway and into the living room – always a time of great excitement – seemed different somehow. As if they were tempting fate. As if it was going to end up mocking them instead of being the focus of good times. Josiah had resisted calls to get the tree up at the beginning of December, knowing the lead-up was going to be tense enough without drawing it out too long.

“Nice tree, boys,” Josiah said. And it was – a fine, sturdy spruce with lots of upcurling branches, plentiful, dark blue-green needles and the smell of a Norwegian forest. 

They put it as usual out on the deck in its pot for the time being. And then Josiah brought down the Christmas things from the box room, dumped them in the middle of the living room. That evening they sat around the table after the meal and Josiah wrote down a list of everything they needed to do.

“Buy Buck’s present,” Buck said at once when Josiah invited suggestions.

“Get in plenty of beers,” was Chris’s contribution.

“Don’t play the Christmas CD more than once,” Nathan added.

“No! No!” J.D. shouted. “Play it all the time, over and over and over!”

Josiah scribbled everything down more or less verbatim and soon the list read:   
make a cake but can it be chocolate frosting please, please, please; buy Nettie something real nice only not expensive or she’ll just be mad; J.D. would like a puppy and a goldfish but mainly a puppy; no calling for volunteers - draw straws for who comes to the grocery store; Vin doesn’t want improving reader books in his stocking this year thank you; Of course Nathan wants a stocking this year, are you kidding? Buck and Chris having a party one night – butter up the neighbors; J.D. is in charge of nativity scene but baby Jesus, two wise men, and the donkey are missing; Ezra will keep his thoughts about Santa to himself.

“Shaping up,” Josiah said, looking over the top of his reading glasses.

There were holiday events scheduled at both Long Holme and Nathan’s Junior High. Fundraisers, performances, all the usual – and of course the performances were on the same day. Josiah couldn’t help the odd reflection that it would have been easier on him to have had a partner parent to split duties, although really it worked just as well that Buck said he’d try and get an hour or two out of work to see J.D. playing a sparkly Christmas tree and Ezra being one of the narrators of the usual multi-denominational extravaganza, while a few blocks away Josiah could glow with pride at Nathan’s solo rendition of several lines of some rapped-up traditional song which he and Leroy had penned.

The schools Christmas holiday break was due to start on the 23rd, the same day they’d get news from Atlanta. Only at the end of the preceding week the weather was so bad they ended up getting snow days as well, finished school on the 19th. Chris and Buck were still at work, but Miss Nettie opened up her house to the younger ones, let them get bundled up to come play in the snow, see the horses, run around in the yard and beyond. As usual she had her huge Christmas tree in the living room, with presents for them all piled underneath, labeled with handwritten, handmade cards tied on with string. She let Nathan help with some baking, set Ezra and Vin to walk the dogs with strict instructions they weren’t to tire themselves out or go rolling around in the snow getting soaking wet and inviting chest colds.

On December 22nd Josiah was due to make merry, as well as suffer academia-related grumbling, at the department Christmas party.

“Oh joy,” he said. “How I wish some of you were girls so you could tell me what to wear.”

Chris laughed. “Don’t you let Mary Travis or Buck’s Louisa hear you say anything like that. They’d hang you for a sexist dog.”

“Let Ezra advise you,” Nathan added, well amused. “He loves to do stuff like that.”

And since finding things that Ezra was genuinely good at which didn’t involve breaking the law was one of Josiah’s current missions, that worked out pretty well. He was confident he looked sharp – sharper than usual – once Ezra had got to work on his outfit, but he still felt apprehensive going out. Mostly because although he was more than happy to leave Nathan in charge of the younger ones, Chris and Buck were inviting friends over.

“No boozing,” was the first thing he said. 

“Heck, Josiah, it’s a party.”

“Yes and you’re not twenty-one for at least two years.”

“Twenty one schmenty one,” Buck mocked. “We won’t slip any to the kids, don’t worry.”

“Well all right, no smoking indoors, and no girls in the bedrooms.”

“You are so nineteenth century, Josiah. Who needs bedrooms?”

“I mean it, fellers. You have three little guys here tonight, and it’s not fair on Nate if you cause any problems.”

“Now why would a little seasonal booze and some girls sitting on the couch cause any problems?” Buck asked, waggling his eyebrows. Chris slapped him on the butt.

“We hear you,” he said.

Josiah figured he’d just have to let the trust thing run its course.

The doorbell rang then and all three of the younger ones came haring out to see who it was – Josiah’s most sober colleague arriving to drive him to the party, or an early guest. 

“Hey, Millie,” Josiah said when he opened the door, the boys jumping around like beans in the background, already strung out on candy.

Millie Hepplewaite was a sweet-faced, conventionally dressed eighteen year-old, the type of girl who seemed to do a lot of hanging on Buck’s arm and giggling at what he said. Josiah hadn’t seen her in a while, presuming Buck had moved on, like he often did after a few dates, to pastures new.

“Mr. Sanchez.”

The formality threw him but he carried on, just as friendly. “Good to see you. You OK?”

“Great, thank you. And you?”

“Oh we’re great, too. Well, noisy and in chaos, you know – as usual.”

She gave one of her giggles. “You have a new one.”

“Ah yes. Since you saw us last we’ve acquired Ezra.”

“Cute,” she said. “All your boys are cute.” And she nudged Buck with another suppressed giggle while Ezra and Vin rolled their eyes.

“How’s your father, Millie?”

“Dad’s good thanks.”

Buck was giving Josiah a look as if to say ‘enough with the nicey-nicey now. Please go away.’ Josiah gave him back a pleasant, toothy smile in return.

“I’ll be back before midnight,” he said. “And whenever I get in will be curfew. Everybody I expect to be asleep by then should be asleep.” Under his breath he said to Nathan, “I’m relying on you to get the little guys settled. They’re going to be all shades of excited with this damned party going on, but Vin still needs all the sleep he can get, and Ezra’s got a big day tomorrow.”

“Well,” Nathan said gravely, “if I can fight my way through all the drug-dealers and drunken people lying about, consider it done.”

“You’re paying for breakages,” was Josiah’s parting shot to Buck and Chris when his ride did arrive.

“Byeeeee,” Buck said, flapping his fingers and ushering him out the door. “You behave yourself now.”

Josiah knew Hannah would have had a bunch of things to say about him leaving the six of them to it with booze in the house. He knew they would probably have disagreed sharply. Hannah would have informed him he either shouldn’t allow Buck and Chris to have a party while he wasn’t there, or else he shouldn’t go out himself.

“But it’s Christmas, Hannah,” he’d have said, and it would have been fifty-fifty as to whether he’d have won her over.

Nettie, of course, would have stuck with her old friend. Which is why Josiah hadn’t actually told her.

The department party was the usual affair. There was the regular gut-burning egg nog on offer, which Josiah avoided, and a playlist of hits which in the first half reflected the age and hippy-leaning tendencies of much of the academic staff, and in the second the hard dancing preferences of much of the support staff. The head of department made a rambling speech, talk was of university cuts and the perfidy of politicians, and Claudio got very drunk. Josiah quite enjoyed himself. He danced with several female colleagues, both of whom he was glad he’d never dated, and got along best with anybody who both interested him and was interested in hearing about the marvels of his family. Great support was offered all round, and at around half past eleven he left remembering that he was lucky to work there and that he should take care not to rock the boat when he got too annoyed. There might not be too many other workplaces who’d give him so much unexpected time off to deal with crises.

Crises.

There didn’t seem to be an impending one when the cab dropped him at the bottom of the street. Not in his head, anyway. Since they were on an incline he told the cab driver he was happy walking. The night was clear, the air freezing but not unbearable, and there was plenty of grit underfoot. He trudged slowly, carefully, liking how the chilled air was clearing his head. For a while all was quiet except for the hum of traffic on the distant interstate. But then, about fifty yards from the townhouse, he could hear voices. Raised voices. Even before he drew near and could make out the figures, he knew at least two of them were definitely Chris and Ella Gaines. There were a few more parked cars than usual, and a small knot of kids around the same age, standing by them. Then he distinctly heard Buck’s beer-laden voice saying loudly,

“Now you just quit mouthing off at him, you bitch!”

Oh, Lord.

“Hey, come on, Buck, no need to be like that.” It was one of the girls in the group and as Josiah’s quickening steps drew him nearer, Buck turned to her.

“I’m sorry, Sarah, but she has no right talkin’ to either you or Chris like that. If she can’t take rejection, that’s her problem.”

“You’re full of shit, Buck Wilmington!” Ella Gaines returned. Her voice was as loud and liquor-laced as Buck’s and Josiah glanced uneasily up at the neighboring houses. Boy would he be popular if something dramatic and disturbing was kicking off. Still, no cop cars yet. He hadn’t received any worried texts from Nathan either so he hoped that meant that at least all was quiet inside the house.

“Both of you keep your voices down,” Chris was saying in a weary way. “Ella, reckon it’s better if you left now.”

“Oh you reckon, do you?” 

Josiah had now drawn so close that he knew the knot of young people including the girl Sarah, as well as Buck, had seen him. Ella, however, was clearly so wound up that she had eyes for nobody but her opponent, who appeared to be Buck, and her boyfriend, whose un-coated sleeve she suddenly grabbed at. “Well you can’t just tell me to leave and expect me to go all sweet and obedient like fucking Mary Travis or your darling little good girl over there.”

“Sarah’s not my darling little good girl,” Chris said, his voice a dangerous rumble. He looked over then and saw Josiah. “She’s my friend and I don’t like you behaving like this toward her. I told you, I don’t want to be with you anymore if you’re going to keep being like this. It’s better if you leave. I think we might be finished, Ella, so just leave now, OK? There’s no point goin’ over everything when you’re drunk.”

“I’m drunk?” she practically screeched and Josiah could see those powerful eyes of hers flashing in the dark. “How many times have you gotten drunk with me?”

“Too many times,” Chris said, and tried to pull his sleeve away.

“Don’t you dare turn your back on me, Chris Larabee, don’t you fucking dare!”

“Oh please,” he said, pulling harder so she staggered on the frosty ground. “What are you going to do?”

“Well you’ll see won’t you.” She turned her head towards the girl Sarah, voice wild. “And that bitch’ll see too! If I find out she’s been with you I’ll fucking kill both of you!”

“Hey!” Josiah said at that point, making his voice so loud that several of the group by the cars jumped. “Enough of this already!” He came and stood next to Buck, directed all his attention at Ella. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but it seems to me like you’re a little out of control, young lady. I don’t want to call the cops but I will do if you don’t get yourself out of here and home right now. We don’t need that kind of threatening talk and foul language, whatever it is that’s happened.” 

Already he could feel Chris winding up to tell him to butt out and that he didn’t need any help, but Josiah was mindful of more than just the dynamics going on out here. Their neighbors were good enough people, but they wouldn’t appreciate being disturbed by angry shouting, and there were one or two who’d indicated they spent their lives expecting upsets like this coming from the Sanchez household, disconnected as it obviously was from any comfortable, nuclear family set-up they themselves recognized.

Ella Gaines swung her gaze to Josiah and he felt un-nerved at the look she gave him. She held her head high and didn’t look one little bit intimidated. Then she looked back at Chris.

“I love you,” she said, not dropping her voice despite the intimacy of the statement. It was an uninhibited, passionate declaration. Her facial expression was intense. At that moment she really did seem only to have eyes for him. “Do you have any idea how much?”

Chris rubbed his forehead with one fist. Josiah wasn’t sure if he was just tired of hearing her say it, or if it actually hit home. Glancing over to his second boy he could see that Buck was still shaking with anger, his hands clenched. The girl Sarah was standing right next to him, both to support him, and, perhaps, for protection. Josiah indicated the cars with his head, trying to tell them to start rounding everyone up, encourage them on their way home. He saw Sarah pull gently on Buck’s arm and was grateful to her.

“Go home,” Chris had muttered to Ella, voice rough. “It’s over.”

“It is so not over,” she said, and reached for him. Chris jerked as if he was about to be stung and her face changed again. “You’re going to regret this,” she said, almost through her teeth. And then she did back off, digging in her coat pocket for her cell phone.

Chris moved away from her, although he seemed aware that she was still watching him even as she began to tap out a number on her cell.

“Buck,” Josiah said. “Everybody OK? You got sober drivers?”

“Yeah. Two of ‘em. We’re all right over here.”

“Ella?” Josiah asked, looking straight at her. “How are you getting home?”

“She’ll be fine,” Chris said under his breath. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Yes,” Ella was saying, head slightly turned away as she spoke into her cell. “Barley Heights Avenue... I’ll be on the first corner. No, my boyfriend can’t take me. Chris, you know? Chris Larabee. Yes, he’s not feeling too good at the moment, that’s all.” An incongruous laugh. “Oh no, everything’s fine with us, we’re fine, just had a bit too much of a good time... yes, OK, see you in twenty.”

“You want to wait indoors?” Josiah asked, seeing that Chris wasn’t going to.

Ella tossed her head. She ignored him, slid her cell back in her pocket, dragged out some gloves. “Well good night then, sweetheart,” she said, voice silky, breath puffing mist into the dark. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Don’t bother,” Chris growled, although not directly at her. He went towards the first of the two cars, the one Sarah was in, but Buck staged an intercept.

“Just go in, Chris. Leave it for now. Don’t stir things up.”

Chris tensed up but he did as he was told, turning away from the cars and stomping up the driveway towards the front door. Josiah watched Ella watching him, and then, when he’d pushed it open and disappeared inside, she reluctantly swung away, began to step her way carefully down the snowy sidewalk. Josiah didn’t feel comfortable letting her go, but there was something unstable about her and he didn’t want her turning on him if he tried to persuade her to come inside out of the cold. She was a year or so older than Chris, so more than capable of looking after herself. Besides, it seemed as if it would be kind of unfair to inflict her on Chris any further.

As the two cars drew away, he fell into step next to Buck, following Chris’s footprints up towards the door.

“So,” Josiah said dryly, “good party?”

“Until ten minutes ago.”

It was warm in the hallway. As they took off their coats and Josiah locked the door behind them, he could hear voices up the corridor in the kitchen. He followed Buck up there, found Nathan and Chris in there together. The table and all the counters were covered in empty and half-empty beer bottles and the floor was sticky. Chris, mechanical, was beginning to tidy them up.

“It’s all right,” Josiah said. “Do it in the morning. Go get some rest.”

“I want to.”

“That was some scene!” Nathan remarked, perhaps unwisely. Josiah supposed it would impress a fifteen year-old. He hoped Nathan hadn’t been drinking – the teenager did seem suspiciously cheerful.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” he asked, rather uselessly.

“Are you kidding? Music was so loud the house was bouncing!” and he laughed.

“Good playlist,” Buck said, cracking a smile.

“Oh Lord. Have you kept the little guys awake?”

“Not last time we checked.” Buck shook his head at him, as if he should know better than to question their sense of responsibility towards the younger ones. “And we turned down the music at eleven. There really wasn’t much house bouncing – Nathan’s talking out of his ass.”

“Are we really going to clear all this up?”

“We are, old man.” Buck flapped a hand. “You go check the young ‘uns, and then go to bed.”

Josiah looked blearily round the kitchen. Heaven only knew what the living room looked like.

“You have a good party?” Nathan asked him, plucking up several bottles at once and advancing on a large recycling sack that Chris had brought in from the utility.

“Clearly not as good as this one.” Josiah considered coffee, and then wisely decided against. He realized that Buck and Chris probably wanted to have a post mortem on what had just happened. Maybe they’d even include Nathan. At any rate, they didn’t want some ancient, out-of-touch, wiseacre of a foster father interfering, and if they were going to clear up at the same time... well, good. He raised a hand. “’night,” he said. “Get some sleep.”

In the bunk room Vin and Ezra were deeply asleep, Vin with one arm dropped over the side of the top bunk and Ezra with both arms burrowed under his pillow which was probably putting strain on the weak shoulder. There were toys, juice boxes, clothes and empty chip packets all over the floor so Josiah figured they’d had their own little party in here. Ezra was so fast asleep it didn’t seem worth disturbing him. They’d just have to make sure he did his rotation exercises carefully in the morning. J.D. was asleep too, thank goodness.

Josiah rolled into bed. He could hear the oldest three, although it seemed they were at least trying to be quiet. There was the occasional sound of glass dropping on glass, mixed with murmuring voices. He wondered if tonight was going to see the last of Ella Gaines. Chris’s dismissal had seemed unambiguous, and if the way she’d seemed tonight was any gauge, Josiah could hardly blame him. Now Sarah Connolly on the other hand... she came across as a much steadier young woman. Josiah was starting to understand why Buck was so keen she and Chris got together. Well, maybe tonight was the start of that. He yawned, tried to steer his mind away from tomorrow. Hoped he’d feel sober as a judge come the morning.

It seemed unlikely.


	5. Knights of St. Nicholas

There was no sound from Buck, Chris, and Nathan when he got up the next day, head throbbing.

All the bottles and pizza crusts were cleared away, and there was a full, tied garbage bag in the corner of the kitchen along with the recycle sack. The floor was still sticky and there were some damp patches and a lot of crumbs in the living room, but the three eldest had done a pretty good job considering. Josiah showered and dressed in his suit once again, fortified himself with coffee and plain water. In the bunk room, Vin and J.D. were in their dressing gowns watching Ezra put on his tie. Vin was sitting on his top bunk, legs over the edge, and J.D., as ever, was hanging on the ladder.

“Sharp,” Josiah commented when he came in.

Ezra looked at him from in front of the mirror. “Likewise,” he drawled.

“I hate these days,” Vin said, despondent, swinging his legs, slippered feet missing J.D.’s head by half an inch.

“Me too,” Josiah agreed. “How’re you feeling, Ezra?”

Ezra adjusted the knot of the tie, made sure the collar was sitting straight. He gave himself a critical look in the glass, then sighed. “Perfectly fine,” he said.

“You want some breakfast?”

A head shake.

“Chocolate milk?”

“Do I have to?”

“No, you don’t have to. We’re going straight to Social Services. Cristina’s taking us. We can have some breakfast on the way home maybe.”

“There were big kids kissing in the hall,” J.D. observed. “At the party.”

“Canoodle-oooodling,” Vin said in a funny voice, clearly hoping to get a smile out of Ezra, but the boy didn’t react.

“I don’t think I want to know.” Josiah held out a hand to indicate to J.D. that he needed to get off the ladder now. “You boys all right to get your own cereal? The big guys are still in bed but I’m going to wake Nate before we go. I don’t think we’ll be out too long.”

“Can we watch TV and eat cereal?” 

“Sure, just don’t throw milk around, and leave the tree alone.”

“No school,” J.D. said, stretching his tongue out of his mouth and shaking his fists in triumph.

Vin began to slide down the ladder. When he got to the floor, he slung an arm round Ezra’s shoulders, just like the Buck would do to Chris. “See ya later,” he said.

Ezra fiddled with his tie again.

Cristina Alvarez swung by ten minutes later. Josiah had decided to leave Buck and Chris alone, just rapped on the door of the study.

“Nate! We’re going now. You’re in charge.”

There was a muffled response from inside.

“Don’t tell Social Services all the babysitters are asleep,” Josiah observed as he and Ezra went down the crisply snowy driveway to the waiting car.

“Am I to tell them anything?” Ezra asked as they climbed in. 

“Hey, Josiah, Ezra,” Cristina greeted.

“Miss Alvarez,” Ezra responded. 

“Morning.” Josiah fastened his safety belt and then turned around to face the back seat. “You can say whatever you want, Ezra. They’re bound to ask you how you feel about the decision, whatever it is. And you just tell them what you think. Be honest.”

Ezra sighed heavily, rubbed a circle on the misty window as the car’s engine growled into life.

Downtown the Social Services offices were decorated for Christmas. Paper chains, snowflakes pinned to the ceiling, a tree in the lobby twinkling with tiny white lights, surrounded by interesting, brightly-wrapped packages. Cristina went on ahead and Josiah and Ezra sat and looked at it.

“Fake,” Ezra said.

“I’m sorry?”

“The Christmas parcels. They’re fake. Just empty boxes.”

“Looks kinda nice though.”

“Fake.”

It worried Josiah sometimes that the boy had such an acute eye for anything phony. 

After another five minutes they were called up to the second floor. In one of the offices, Leila Beverley was waiting, with Cristina, a representative from Atlanta Social Services, and a well-dressed man introduced as the lawyer representing Maude Standish. 

“Hey, Josiah, Ezra, good to see you!” Leila was faintly over-excited. “Come in and sit down. Here, Ezra, you sit over here, and Josiah you take that chair, that’s fine. Good. Welcome, everybody!”

It was going to be run like a meeting, that much was clear. And Leila was going to be the chairperson. Josiah stole a look at Ezra. The boy was sitting very upright in his chair, shoulders back, hands in his lap, the weak wrist supported by the opposite hand. He’d looked very suspiciously at the St. Louis lawyer.

After a few general remarks reminding everyone why they were here and who was here for what reason, there was a lot of talk of the Finlays. The incident that led to Ezra running away and how distressed the family had been.

“You know there was physical punishment involved?” Josiah interrupted when he thought there’d been too much extraneous detail. It didn’t matter how many times he told himself not to get furious in the Social Services offices, he nearly always did. He had no idea why they always took so long to get around to telling you what they’d decided, and that was bad enough, but it was when they spouted claptrap and quoted people he held in low regard that he got mad.

“They deny that,” the lawyer said at once.

“But in any case we’re not here to judge the Atlanta family,” Leila added, keeping her voice neutral. “It’s just background information.”

“Some ass hitting my boy isn’t just background information to me!” Josiah snarled. He saw Ezra shift in his chair and look across at him. His eyes were bright with shock and gratitude, and that nearly undid Josiah right there.

“Listen,” Cristina Alvarez said. “We need to know two things. First of all, can Ezra stay with Josiah beyond Christmas, and secondly, if so, for how long and on what basis?”

“We would normally have no theoretical problem in transferring the whole matter from Atlanta to Denver, since the situation here seems stable and the child wishes to stay. However, in this case we also have parental contact to consider, and Mrs. Standish has made known her wishes.” The Atlanta lead was businesslike despite his drawl.

Lord, thought Josiah, raising his eyes to the ceiling, here we go.

“Ezra,” said the lawyer, who had a rather an intense stare which he suddenly directed at Ezra. Ezra looked steadily back at him. “Your mother would like you near her so you can visit. She knows you’re happy here but she thinks that if we can just find the right situation for you in Missouri then that would be perfect for both of you.”

“I want to see her,” Ezra said, and he stole a reluctant look at Josiah, face coloring up.

“It’s all right, son. You don’t need to feel guilty for wanting to see your mom.” Josiah smiled at him, heart full.

“Well, good,” the Atlanta rep said, sounding surprised that things were proceeding so smoothly.

“I want to see her,” Ezra repeated, “but I want to stay here more.” He rubbed the sore wrist absently. “Why can’t I do both?”

“Well,” Leila said. “That is what we’ve been discussing back and forth all these weeks.”

“But if I don’t go back to St. Louis, does that mean I won’t ever live with her again? I mean...” and he frowned mightily, “is that her choice or mine? They said in Georgia she wasn’t a fit mother before and y’all asked me again and again how many times she’d left and I said it wasn’t that simple but does she get to choose and do I hafta do as she says and... I don’t want to upset her.” 

Josiah had limited knowledge of Maude Standish. He knew Ezra sought her approval, and their odd bond shouldn’t be underestimated, that it went pretty deep. And he knew she had been successful in her chosen profession of... well, career criminal and con artist, which evidently the arrival of a child had rather threatened, much as she might love him. Ezra’s dedication to her even after the several times she appeared to have abandoned him irked Josiah, but it was no real surprise. Such counter-intuitive loyalty was painfully familiar by now, although he also knew from experience that it could flip dramatically at any time. Whether Maude would entirely reform once released he wholeheartedly doubted, although he would never dream of intimating such a negative scenario to Ezra. In his submissions to the Board he’d offered Ezra a stable home until such time as it was decided Mrs. Standish was once again a fit mother. And permanently if necessary. He’d stressed the opportunity of permanency, and he guessed it was no secret to any of the people in the room that such an outcome was his ambition. He hadn’t ever tried to explain – not even to Cristina, who seemed to understand most things – why this idea of the seven of them had such a powerful currency with him. With them all.

“Well, Ezra. How about you come to St. Louis for a Christmas visit with your mom? We could find you a family to stay with until school starts again.”

There was something about the way the lawyer spoke which made Josiah’s heart start to canter. And Ezra evidently wasn’t sure about it either as he immediately turned to him with a look of panic on his face.

“Excuse me,” Josiah said, leaning forward in his seat. “I understood that we were here for a decision. And that the decision was to be made by the Social Services Board. Not to hash out what you’ve all been discussing amongst yourselves for the last however long. Will Ezra be living with us for longer, or not? And if so, how long?”

And if not, he further wanted to add, why the hell not?

Leila held up a hand as if she might have to start being a referee.

“No, you’re right, Josiah. That is why you’re here. It’s been a difficult decision, and we’ve had a lot of things to take into account. As you can hear, Mrs. Standish has been an active part of the discussions where possible, and obviously she is keen to maintain contact with Ezra. There is a proposal on the table that Ezra should come back to St. Louis later today or tomorrow. If he wants to, that is.”

“Just for a visit?”

“Yes, just for a visit. Perhaps a week. And then return to you in time for school. Mrs. Standish was keen that we again seek a permanent position for him in a local family, but the Board has ruled against.”

Josiah put a hand to his chest. “Against,” he repeated. “So that means he gets to stay with us?”

“Yes, at least until the beginning of summer break.”

OK, so this was progress. But Josiah didn’t like the stop-start routine they were starting to impose on Ezra. And he didn’t like that it seemed as if Maude Standish and her lawyer were beginning to call some of the shots here.

“Why only until then?”

“Well if he is to be transferred back to St. Louis, it would make sense for him to begin a new school a the start of a semester.”

“So you’re giving us six months?”

“We will review again in six months.” Leila was calm. “You know we have to review, Josiah. It’s how it works.”

“So there’s your decision,” said the Atlanta rep. She seemed a nice enough woman, but hadn’t once looked at Ezra. “The only other question is whether the visit will go ahead.”

“Your choice, Ezra,” said the lawyer, unctuous.

Ezra’s ramrod straight back seemed to have sagged. “I have to decide now?” 

“That doesn’t seem fair,” Josiah said, keeping his temper in check somehow.

“We would have communicated the suggestion prior to the meeting, Mr. Sanchez, but the opportunity to stay with a family has only just arisen.”

“I can’t choose, Josiah,” Ezra whispered, and a tear squeezed out and rolled right down his cheek. “Don’t make me.”

Josiah took a steadying breath in order to keep his voice calm. At all costs he didn’t want to exert any pressure. “You want to see your mom?”

Ezra nodded, scrubbed the tear away with the flats of his fingers.

“But you’d like to be with us for Christmas?”

“She wants to see me.” Ezra’s voice was suddenly hardly audible and his face was beginning to collapse. The idea was clearly unbearably wonderful and appalling at the same time. Hard to cope with.

“Well listen,” Josiah said. “How about this?” He fixed the visitors with an uncompromising look, tried to keep his voice reasonable, although inside he was seething. “Bearing in mind all the holiday plans Ezra has been making with us here, how about he doesn’t get hauled eight hundred miles across the country when he wasn’t expecting it, huh? How about he stays right here and has the Christmas he’s been looking forward to? Sound like a plan? And then, some time between Christmas and New Year’s, I undertake to accompany him to St. Louis to visit his mother in the penitentiary. We’ll drive it. New family situation not needed, we’ll find our own accommodation. How about that?”

“And,” added Cristina, just as forthright, but quietly undercutting the edge of aggression in his voice, “how about Atlanta Social Services pay for the trip, seeing as they’re so in favor of a visit taking place?”

The lawyer from St. Louis looked at the Social Services rep from Atlanta.

“Is this something we need to discuss in private?”

“I don’t think so,” said the Atlanta woman after a pause. “I rather think it ticks boxes.”

The lawyer looked back to Josiah. “My client would like regular contact for the remainder of her term,” he said, a little grim. “We can’t expect you to keep making the trip.”

“On the contrary.” Josiah was steely. “I’ll make it as often as I have to.”

*

On the way home he sat in the back seat of Cristina’s car instead of the passenger seat. Ezra didn’t ask him and he didn’t suggest it, but somehow it seemed the natural thing to do. It was freezing crossing to the car lot from the Social Services building, and once they got going the lawyer switched on the heat to high. Ezra seemed lost in his own thoughts after having been voluble in the elevator coming down. He glanced over at Josiah once and gave him a small, weary smile before letting his head rest on the cool window. Cristina had the radio on at low volume and there was a traffic build-up that slowed them down. Josiah didn’t say anything except “maybe not a good idea to lean on that shoulder of yours, son.” He shifted as close as he could given the constraints of the safety belts, let Ezra gradually slide towards him.

“Lord,” he said softly. “This child is bushed. I think you’ve just been pretending not to care, Master Ezra P. Standish.”

“Good result, Josiah,” Cristina Alvarez said, looking at him in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah.” Six months, although nothing, was a good stretch of time to begin settling the family down.

My family. Josiah shut his eyes for a second, trying to concentrate on that, and not what the university were going to say about him needing regular time off to travel.

“And we’ll work on what happens in the summer.”

“Work,” Josiah said, popping open his eyes and giving her a tired smile. “Yes, there’ll be a lot of work.”

Not least with the child twitching slightly against his bicep.

But still, they had the holidays. Downtime with no hearings, no decisions pending, no meetings about juvenile crime with Miss Gardine. Work and prison visits could damn well stay on the flipside.

He felt bad poking Ezra awake when they got back to the house. Ezra was grumpy, but only for a short while. Cristina had stopped and bought a big box of celebration donuts, and Ezra offered to carry them from the car, which was a good deal more helpful than he generally was without being badgered.

“You think they’re even up?” he asked.

“Well if they aren’t, we’ll get ‘em up,” Josiah replied as the key turned in the lock and he pushed open the door.

“Get who up?” Buck was just outside the bathroom, toweling his hair.

He looked straight at Ezra, then at the donuts. Then a massive smile broke out on his face. “Donuts?” he said. “From Donut Maker? Oh boy, I think that means we got us a good result here.” He raised his brows in question at Ezra, who couldn’t not grin back, pleased but not entirely uninhibited. Buck turned from the bathroom door. “Viiiiiiiiiin!” he bellowed. “Jaaaaaaayyyy Deeeeeee! Get your asses out here. Nathan! Donuts! C’mon now, we got us another celebration!”

Josiah was surprised to find Chris, dressed, already in the kitchen and disposing of yesterday’s coffee grounds in the trash.

“Hey, Ezra,” he said, turning as the boy laid the box of donuts on the table. “I hear you’re going to be sticking around.”

“Seems like it.” Ezra was manfully casual. He tapped the box. “And one of these is for you.”

Chris grinned. Josiah thought his eldest was looking surprisingly sharp considering last night’s events. He was clear-eyed, seemed to have slept well. And, even more significantly, seemed to be in excellent humor. It had become clear to Josiah over the years that whatever mood Chris was in often dictated what mood the whole house was in.

“Sorry for all the shouting last night, Josiah.” Josiah could tell that the apology was probably going to be all the explanation he got, for the time being anyway. But if Ella Gaines was out of the picture, he didn’t actually mind if Chris never said another word about it.

“Long as everybody got home safe then frankly I’m not too worried about the neighbors. Might leave it awhile before I let you guys have another party though.”

“New Year’s?”

“You’re funny.”

The rumble that sounded like thunder was Vin and J.D. approaching up the woodblock floor of the hallway. So then there was a bunch of jumping about, and Ezra scratching his ear in embarrassment, and J.D. declaring that six months was a real long time – even longer than six weeks. Nathan fist bumped Ezra and then went and stuck his ipod on the dock.

“Yes!” shouted J.D., “Yes, yes, yes!” 

“Donut party!” Buck clapped his hands as Vin headed to the fridge for juice and milk. While Chris and Josiah concentrated on coffee, the rest of them began on the box.

“Sit down, guys,” Josiah pleaded, and managed to get at least the younger ones on to chairs although Buck continued to shimmy up and down the kitchen to the strains of the Beach Boys, with his mouth full, belting out a garbled “Run, run, reindeer!” at intervals which mostly didn’t sync with the actual song.

“It’s the little Saint Nick!” J.D. warbled, ever the imitator.

“You know, don’t you, that he’s patron saint of repentant thieves, as well as children,” Nathan said through a mouthful of donut, which nugget of information brought forth accusations that he’d been sneakily reading through the Trivial Pursuits cards again. “Saint Nick I mean.”

Ezra went a slightly hot color. “Well least that’s better than the one Miss Nettie was talking about.”

Buck winced and stopped gyrating. “Ouch, she ain’t bin bending your ear about St. Jude has she?”

Vin snorted with laughter. “Patron saint of lost causes!” He licked sugar from round his mouth.

“And desperate cases,” Ezra added, rolling his eyes as if he could hear Nettie Wells even now.

“She’s only funning,” Vin said hastily. “She don’t really think you’re that.”

“What’s pentant thieves?” J.D. demanded.

“Thieves and robbers who’ve said sorry, returned their stolen goods and decided not to steal anything ever again.” Josiah tried hard not to sound too preachy, or to direct the explanation too obviously towards Ezra.

“An’ what’s lost causes?”

Ah, more tricky. 

“That’s things or people that society has given up on because they think there’s nothing more they can do. You know what society is?”

“Nope.”

“It’s everybody, J.D.,” Vin said. “All the courts people, and the cops and schools. An’ us too. All the people you c’n think of.” He waved his hands around so inclusively that J.D. giggled.

“Givin’ up on people ain’t nice,” he said.

“Well thank goodness for Miss Nettie’s Saint Jude then, am I right?” Josiah was humorous.

Ezra wrinkled his nose. “I prefer Nicholas. I think I’ll have him for my saint.”

“Huh,” Josiah said. “So you like that idea? You’re not the only one. You know, a long time in the past there were thieves and robbers who liked it so much they even called themselves his knights. The Knights of Saint Nicholas.”

“Oh, Nate, c’mon, you’re slackin’! You missed that one.” Buck bopped him on the head with a teaspoon.

“Cool!” J.D. said. “Hey, you know what? Guys, you know what?” He had to raise his voice above the general hubbub, but didn’t seem to find that a problem. “That could be us! Hey, guys, guys! Although we ain’t thieves of course.”

The pink came back to Ezra’s cheeks but he didn’t say anything. Josiah swept a quick look round the table, was grateful to see nobody else looked as if they were about to either. He swung the conversation to something different, although probably just as contentious.

“OK so who’s coming with me to the grocery? It’ll be crazy out there. We going to do the straws?”

“Let’s all go,” Chris suggested unexpectedly. “I mean, we have seven seats. Don’t get much chance to all ride together.”

“Yeah,” Buck said, rubbing his hands as if they were planning some particularly wild and thrilling expedition, “let’s do it.”

“The grocery store?” Josiah said, blinking. “You do know what I’m talking about, right? That place that will be full of very tense people behaving very badly?”

“Sounds just about perfect for us then.” Chris was still uncharacteristically merry and bright. “You want me to drive?”

Josiah wasn’t sure. His natural pessimism told him Chris was probably merry and bright because he was still over the blood-alcohol limit for driving. In fact his natural pessimism told him he wasn’t sure about any of this. 

But anyhow, in no time at all Buck was leading them out the door with a stomping chorus of “rockin’ around Josiah’s house”. Nathan had snagged the car keys from the hook, and when Chris whistled he lobbed them at him in a perfect arc down the driveway. Chris’s hand came out so fast to catch Josiah hardly saw the move. J.D. automatically held out his paw for Josiah as he set off down the slippery surface towards the car, and Vin and Ezra were sliding behind him staging a lively stand-off between Mr. Freeze and Aquaman, who until recently had been deputizing for the two wise men who’d gone AWOL. Josiah never had gotten to the bottom of how Ezra acquired them from the unlucky Jared Keiperman in the first place.

He didn’t care right now though. Not even a little. 

His boys were happy – Josiah could feel it, as sharp and sure as the winter air on his face. Perhaps like the season itself the happiness would be here for a while and then gone again. So damn good while it lasted, but just not possible to have all the year round. But Josiah would take it – even if it only lasted as far as the doors of Trader Joe’s. He could imagine how hard it would be to find a space in the lot, and how Vin would be bound to wander off once they got inside, how Ezra would start complaining that his feet hurt after a while and J.D. would want to ride in the cart and become cranky when he couldn’t, how they’d never all agree on what were most important items to buy and how it was nigh on impossible they’d arrive home as cheerful as they were setting out... but hell, how could he not want this? 

It was going to be a good Christmas. This was their time.


End file.
